


Life Plan

by SunnyDonna



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drama, M/M, Prompt Fic, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-10
Updated: 2014-03-01
Packaged: 2018-01-01 00:33:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1038225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunnyDonna/pseuds/SunnyDonna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zoro has his life set, he's going to graduate, leave for Grand Line city, and become the World's Greatest Swordsman. He doesn't need friends, and he doesn't need anything else. Sanji's got his life set. He's going to stay at home, stay at the Baratie, and take care of Zeff because he really doesn't want anything else. But sometimes, life makes plans for you. Zoro/Sanji</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Signboard

Honestly, Sanji shouldn't have been surprised when everything began that it was heading for disaster. It was probably because he was the least amiable member of the Baratie ever, and Zoro was, well, Zoro. It was bound to bite them in the fucking ass, and judging from the soreness, it really had. He hadn't meant for anything to actually come out of that day. He'd never meant to encourage anything like this. He had known better. It should have been uncomplicated. But something had happened, which meant a helluva of a lot. In fact, it was probably the stupidest fucking thing ever to happen.

And now he was lying in bed, all alone, completely naked, with a sore ass to boot, and trying to figure out what the fuck he had just done.

It had begun a few months back. The sky was blue, bleeding with white clouds. Birds were serenading the fucking world with their goddamned songs of cheer and joy. Sanji had been in an awful bad-feeling mood for the last month. A really shit mood. A fantastically shitty mood. And his coworkers were suffering through his anger and pain.

"Fucking hell Carne! How the fuck do you not know to make a shitty fucking latte?!" yelled Sanji, smashing the cup down in front of the man, who was scowling right back at him. The day Sanji had been made assistant manager, Patty and Carne had wept.

"It's a goddamned delicious latte you asshole!" yelled Carne back, because he was definitely not willing to take shit from the kid he'd watched go through puberty.

"It's a fucking disgusting monstrosity!" hollered Sanji, "And nobody in the fucking world is going to want to drink this shit! Fuck do I have to do everything myself?!"

He was out of the kitchen area in seconds, leaving behind a thoroughly humiliated Carne. Back in front of the counter, the next customer was greeted with a smarmy fucking smile and politely kissing her hand, making a big show of being apologetic. Carne crushed the cup between his hands, furious. He was damned good at making lattes. Sure his speciality lay in the breakfast foods like croissants and danishes they baked, but he knew how to pull together a fucking latte. How dare the kid act like that?!

"Has Sanji always been so angry?" asked the jovial, innocently childish brat as he poured the perfectly good coffee down the sink, while munching on the leftover sandwiches from the tables.

"He's been fucking moody," said Patty darkly, as he brewed a new pot of coffee while working on the lemon tarts. "He's had a stick up his ass for the last month!"

"Fucking shit head," said Carne with a dark scowl as he returned to the pastries he was working on, gently piping the frosting along the cake, "I know how to make a fucking coffee!"

"Yesh you do," said the kid, eating away the last of the leftovers before getting to work soaking the dishes, this time managing not to break any. Yet. "Butsh I like your shanwiches better! Can I have a turkey sandwich with extra meat?!"

"Shut up Luffy and do the fucking dishes!" yelled Sanji, back to gripe at them some more.

When he left, Luffy, Patty and Carne put their heads together, plotting ideas for revenge. Well, Patty and Carne did. Luffy was bribed with sandwiches to do their bidding.

The first brilliant plan of revenge involved placing a nice big spider in the till. Unfortunately, nobody had bothered to inform Zeff. The old geezer had come in during the afternoon and sent Sanji on break, only to find the fucking spider. After he'd crushed it without a second thought, all three had received wallops on the head from the peg leg, and been sent back to work.

The second plan hadn't been their idea at all. It had been a combination of Nami and Usopp's plan. It had been decided when the two came in for an evening cuppa. Nami worked at the Arlong Company. She hated her job, but it was all to make money to head to the city when she graduated. Usopp was working over at the Merry Repair shop, and loved it there. So it was guaranteed that one would walk in happy, while the other walked in fuming.

"Hey guys!" said Luffy, having finished his hours and grinning ear to ear, "I'm done! And I only broke two plates and one cup today!"

"Congratulations," said Usopp delightedly as he sat down at the regular table beside Nami Luffy sliding in across from them.

"We ordered already," said Nami, before Luffy could open his mouth and ask them to order him some meat, "Did you finish the assignment for Math, Luffy?"

"There was an assignment?!" asked Luffy, his jaw dropped comically, and eyes bulging, "Since when?! Mr. Rokakku never said anything!"

"Yes he did," said Nami bluntly, "I'm not even in your class and I know!"

"I'll copy Usopp," said Luffy decidedly, before the two dissolved into an argument about Luffy failing math.

"Your coffee my darling mellorine!" came Sanji's voice, as he laid the cup, already foamed with two little hearts, alongside raspberry and lemon tarts that looked crumbly to the touch. Usopp's cup, though not decorated, was laid with equal care beside the younger boy. Luffy's bowl of leftover sandwiches and deli items from lunchtime was thumped down in front of him. They all thanked Sanji, who gave a beaming smile at the ladies, before heading back to the kitchen. A few minutes later, there was a sound of yelling.

"Yikes! What's he upset at?" asked Usopp, surprised at the sound. It wasn't uncommon for Sanji to yell in the kitchen, but to do so without fawning over Nami's appearance first was the strangest thing they'd ever seen.

"I dunno," said Luffy with a frown, "He's been yelling all day!"

And then he regaled two with the story of the spider and Patty and Carne's plot for revenge. Usopp's eyes were comically wide and amazed behind his impressively long nose, and Nami laughed at Patty and Carne and Luffy's misfortune of being caught by Zeff.

"Y'know, maybe he just needs to get laid," said Nami flippantly, her brown eyes rolling at the seriousness with which Luffy and Usopp were evaluating this situation with, "I think he's just been single too long! I mean, he did date Roxanne for a while, but that panned out."

"So who should date him?" asked Usopp curiously.

The two boys turned to Nami, who scowled ferociously as she said, "Nuh uh. Not me! No way! I don't have the time for that!"

"Oh c'mon, he doesn't even charge you for coffee! Think of what else you could get for free," cajoled Usopp teasingly, only to be met by a dangerous glare.

"I thought the plot was about revenge?" said Nami, as Usopp winced at the light throbbing in his head from where Nami had smacked him.

"Well, it might be nice to see Sanji with another girl again. You know how he adored Roxanne," said Usopp thoughtfully, "Maybe he just needs to meet someone? Never fear! I have a specialty with match-making! I've made thousands of people happily married couples today!"

The conversation dissolved into Luffy being amazed, and Nami being skeptical. However, after school the next day, Luffy ended up sharing his conversation with Patty and Carne. The two ended up snickering as they got Luffy to finish writing on their specials board by the front entrance.

Sanji made his way over to the Baratie Cafe after school on his bike. He always went in through the back, so he had no time to see the sign. If he had, he may have figured out the giggles from his customers far sooner. Be as it was, it wasn't until two hours after his shift started that it all made sense. Someday, he'd think back and wonder what would have happened if he'd checked that sign.

Zoro sighed and rolled his neck to weed the kink the in his neck out. Practice had run later than usual. It wasn't a big deal, considering he was Captain, and considering nobody was waiting for him at home. As Zoro left, his mind kept running over the words Coach Koshiro had said to him. Apparently he was being too single-minded. What the fuck did that mean?!

Okay, so his grades had slipped a bit since he had become Captain. But did it matter? The sword was his life. Just like it had been Koshiro's life. Who cared if he failed math or geography? As long as he could fight, he'd be alright. Nothing mattered beyond his swords. He sighed as he walked down the familiar winding road to his house. He was sore all over and now he was getting a headache. They wanted him to consider getting a tutor. Or at least to put in more effort or they'd email his dad, and then he'd get shit from him.

It was with that thought that Zoro decided it was time to grab something to eat or drink. He would have gone for booze, but his stores were depleted at home, and he wasn't going to break out the good shit for no reason. He could get more liquor, except for the little problem that he had no fucking clue where Johnny and Yosaku lived, and even if he did, there was no guarantee they had any booze to give away. Instead, Zoro had to make do with his second option. Coffee. He sighed at the thought as he walked towards the coffee shop he knew was along the way to his house.

The Baratie.

He'd heard of the place before from Johnny, Yosaku and Luffy, but he'd never really gone inside before. He usually just headed home after training to continue training some more. His friends had grabbed him treats from there, and Koshiro usually got the team some snacks from there, so he knew the good was good. Plus, Zoro knew Luffy worked here, so that was probably a plus. Possibly. Maybe. If Luffy made coffee, he was walking out. Immediately.

As he walked inside, the first thing that caught his eye was the special's board. It was a blackboard posted by the entrance, in front of a potted bush with flowery pink things sprouting out of it in a combination of aesthetically pleasing but also completely and utterly useless. The board itself was simple, and had the words Baratie Coffee House printed neatly across the top. No utterly repulsive curly lettering. Just neat and common words. Already a plus.

Below in white chalk, however, was the most interesting message. In untidy scrawl at he top, it said 'Today your barista is' and then, instead of writing a name, it had a little doodle of a stick figure, with hair going across where one eye should be, and a tie apparently strangling it. Beside the stick figure, in point form, two short sentences were written, completing the message, 'Today your barista is,' with the points, 'hella fucking gay' and 'desperately single'.

Underneath that obnoxious and proud message was the drink recommendation, which instead of a typical chai tea or something fruity, was the emblazoned message, 'I recommend you give me your number.'

Zoro thought nothing of the message, merely shrugging it off. So some fruitcake at the counter was looking for a date. Good for them. Again he was stuck on Koshiro's words. Tutor and fucking socialize instead of practicing. Koshiro thought it would be good for him. He scowled, and walked into the coffee shop through the second set of doors.

The shop was pretty grand. It had neat little black booths across the edges and by large, open windows. The lighting was dimmed, considering those windows let in more light than necessary. The walls had art work of ships and the ocean across it, giving a quaint, sea side atmosphere, which made sense considering that the town of East Blue was by the ocean. To the left of the entrance was a small stage, with a piano set up. They probably did jazz or open mic nights or some artistic bullshit.

The main counter to order was at the front. Delicate pastries and croissants and other food items were placed in an open window for display. They looked more like art forms than edible crap you'd see at Starbucks. Each dessert was delicately presented. The brownies were drizzled with swirling designs and patterns. Made with care. If Zoro was into sweets, he might have been interested. Be as it were, he had no fondness for sugary shit.

The menu billboard was solely made up of various drinks in the center. Spanning out from the central billboard was food items and desert. Apparently this place did more than just the regular coffee shit. It also made lunch items and a dinner menu. Zoro was taken aback at the amount of choice. No wonder Johnny, Yosaku and Luffy were in here all the time. Those three liked to eat.

"How can I help you?" came a deeper voice than Zoro anticipated, and he turned to see the barista.

Instantly his mouth dried up, and his eyes widened a bit more. The barista was blonde, and lean, but not the least bit fruity looking at all. He wore a crisp white shirt, with a black tie around his neck. His delicious, white neck was highlighted by the collar and black fabric leading up to it. His neck headed up to an equally fair face, with blonde- natural yellowy blonde, not some bleached fake shit- hair that swept across his head, covering one eye, but leaving the other, a natural blue eye, completely exposed. He had a slightly curly eyebrow above his head, which was totally bizarre but intriguing all at once.

Why the hell was this guy promoting himself so cheaply?

Now, to make some sense, Zoro had no qualms about his sexuality. As far as he was concerned, men and women were equal in all senses, and therefore, he saw no issues with being with either. Nor was his bisexuality any secret. He was, after all, pretty popular around East Blue High, being the school's kendo champion and the 'Demon of the East Blue'. People who had a problem with him often found themselves on the other end of a sword, if they were lucky. Attraction was attraction. Fuck all who tried to tell him otherwise.

And god was he attracted to this blonde.

"You going to order something?" asked the barista, impassive and unimpressed.

Zoro snapped out of his daze, and gave the menu a look over with his dark eyes. It was thanks to years of meditation and control that he didn't fidget about the fact that he was dressed in a ratty pair of jeans, and ugly band t-shirt from some concert Johnny had dragged him out to. His green hair was still damp with sweat. And he probably reeked, whereas Zoro could smell the blonde's cologne from all the way across the counter.

"What's good?" asked Zoro casually, as he stepped closer to the counte and crinkled his nose at that smell of something that was a lot like woody, herby and fruity all at once.

"Everything shit-head," snapped the barista, and for someone making a desperate with the sign at the door, he was rather obnoxious. It ticked Zoro off.

"Isn't their a manual saying be nice to the customer, asshole?" tossed Zoro back, his usually calm exterior slipping, "No wonder you're desperately single."

The barista's jaw dropped, and the kids behind Zoro giggled as he stared at the blonde, before the blonde suddenly flushed. A delicious, pink flush climbed across his cheeks, and god it was hot. That train of thought was broken off by the angry splutter that slipped from the blonde as he said, "What- You fucker- How dare you?!"

"Whatever," said Zoro impassively, "I'm not interested in the recommendation anyway. Get me a medium Americano."

The blonde glared hatefully at him, and Zoro was under the impression that he was two seconds away from being kicked out, until the other teen just dutifully typed it into the cash register, before glaring coolly at him and asking, "Anything else, moss-head?"

Zoro's hand automatically went to his green hair, and he scowled. The blonde was smirking at the petty victory, but Zoro snapped back, "A sandwich. The one with wasabi and tuna, curly-brow. To go."

"Curly- Fine, bastard," snapped the blonde, glaring hatefully at him before ringing the order up and charging Zoro six beri and ninety three cents. Zoro handed him a tenner, and the fucker made sure to give Zoro all his change in fucking pennies. Zoro scowled at the handful of tiny coins he now had. The blonde had even gone to the extent of opening up three rolls of coins to annoy the hell out of him.

Zoro dutifully stepped aside, shoving the pennies into his wallet with a scowl and watched as the next set of customers went up while his coffee was being brewed. The customers behind him were three kids. They were Usopp's neighbors if he remembered correctly, having recognized their faces as the little shits that followed Usopp around on Syrup Street, which was only really a block away from Zoro's place. The four shits were always coming over to watch Zoro train or go on adventures.

They ordered, giggling as Sanji turned his back and pulled out two brownies and headed off to get the third brat a fresh lemonade. He was back in seconds, and didn't even flinch when the kids handed over the money. Zoro realized they were short two beri, but the barista merely waved them off, before heading to grab Zoro's sandwich and coffee from the kitchen behind him.

That confused Zoro. He'd never seen a coffee shop that had a kitchen where food and drink were made. As far as he knew, those things were always made directly in front of the customer. But this shop was different. Unique.

He kind of liked it.

"Here," said the blonde, shoving the sandwich and coffee at him. It smelled fucking fantastic, and the sandwich was kind of amazing.

Zoro gave the blonde another look-over, trying to figure it out. He wasn't an ugly sort of guy, and he had a terrible personality, or at least, to Zoro he did. And yet, he seemed sort of nice. Besides, Zoro was still wondering how passionate he could be when he wasn't arguing with Zoro, and just how deep of a blush he could have.

"You got a napkin or something?" asked Zoro, as the barista saw some customers heading over to the booths to sit down. Normally, at this point, a waiter should probably head over. The barista was the fucking waiter, judging from the notepad he pulled out of the blue apron tied around his waist, that Zoro only just noticed. Did he do everything in this damn shop?

"What do you want napkins for? Just wipe it on that shit shirt you assho- Hey!," said the waiter-barista hatefully, but Zoro ignored him as he took the pen and notepad from his hand, and the waiter cried out angrily. Zoro ignored him as he quickly scribbled his number across, and at the bottom left his name.

"Here," said Zoro, tossing it back at him, before he left, a little lift in his step at the day he just had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References from the One Piece Verse:
> 
> Luffy as the bus-boy: He works in the Baratie for a bit to pay off a debt
> 
> Patty/Carne: Workers from the Baratie
> 
> Nami at the Arlong Company: Nami works for Arlong in the universe.
> 
> Arlong as bankers: They did keep Nami's home-town in eternal debt
> 
> Johnny/Yosaku: Bounty hunters who worked with Zoro- Appeared in the East Blue saga and Baratie Arcs
> 
> Merry Repair: The guy Merry, who makes the Merry from Usopp's old town.
> 
> Also: Follow me on tumblr at sunny-donna.tumblr.com


	2. Outbursts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanji yells at Zoro some, then gets yelled at some, and then ends up being impressed a whole lot more

Sanji was having a miserable fucking day. For some reason, all the customers were making comments about his love life. Some saying they knew people who'd be interested in dating him since he was single now; one lady even letting him know she had a cousin in Grand Line city with a boy his way that might be interested. The fucking problem was, he had no fucking clue what she meant by that.

The weirdest part of it all was the guy who'd left his number. He'd come in, tall and muscular in a ratty shirt and faded jeans. His green hair was the most memorable bit about him. It was somewhat punk-ish, but he lacked the stereotypical piercings or tattoos to go along with the look. And he'd left behind his number.

After he'd read the note twice, the name suddenly struck him. Zoro. Shit. He knew the name from around school. The guy was famous for being the school Kendo champion. They said he had the potential to make it in the Grand Line. Not that it really mattered to Sanji. He just had no clue why the guy had left his number. Did he want to arrange a fight to kill Sanji for ticking him off? Meatheads like that were always looking for a fight.

Considering it was a Monday, he didn't expect any other customers, and thus, decided to shut the shop's front doors a little early at eight o'clock. As he turned around, he finally came to terms with the message on the black board by the entrance. That's when he realized what was going on. His eyes widened, though only one could actually be seen.

"What the fucking hell?!" he cried, lifting the board up and storming into the kitchen, where Patty and Carne were closing up for the night. Zeff would probably take the night shift to whip up the breakfast items.

The two saw the board, Sanji's red face, and dissolved into laughter. Ten minutes later, the two were smarting a bruise across their chest from where the board had landed, and where Sanji had kicked them after. Sanji was fuming as he stormed down the back hallway, passing a curious looking Zeff, who was still in his office, and headed upstairs to his home and bedroom.

Above the Baratie was Sanji and Zeff's apartment. It was sparse, considering both of them spent their lives in the Baratie, but that worked for them. The main room was a living room, with a small coffee table between two black sofas, not leather but some cheap fabric from some cheap store many years ago when they were just starting out. A small, old television was forced in front of the coffee table, but Sanji was pretty sure they had cut the cable a long time ago and it only played varying channels of fuzz. He wasn't positive though, since he hadn't turned the thing on in a full year.

The kitchen was behind the tiny living area, containing a small table with two chairs forced across it. The kitchen was clean and spotless, as usual. He passed the empty house, knowing Zeff was probably still in his office downstairs, and headed to his bedroom.

The bedroom looked out to the sea. He and Zeff had fought over this room many years ago, but Zeff had given it to him anyways after realizing his office had a better view. After all, the fucking palm tree did block a good deal of the view anyways, the trunk situated right in the middle of the window.

Sanji ignored the view to flump down on the bed, pulling out the note with Zoro's name and number. He now remembered the other rumor about the guy. Bisexual. Fucking hell. He had just been propositioned by the school's fucking Kendo champion who thought he was gay.

Sanji clearly wasn't thinking straight. Instead of tearing the number to shreds, he tossed it on his desk, and loosened his tie to think. Zoro had propositioned him. Like, fucking asked him out. He thought Sanji was gay. Sanji was most definitely not gay. He was a ladies man, through and through. And Zoro was way too much of an asshole to even rank on Sanji's scale. He was barely comparable to women, with their soft smiles, charming eyes, and their curves, their hips, the flex of their legs-

Wait a minute.

What fucker insulted someone and then asked them out?!

It was that thought that made him open his cell-phone and dial the fucker. Three rings later, a groggy voice answered, "Hello?" He was probably asleep before Sanji had called. The blonde felt no remorse as he yelled, "Who the fuck do you think you are?!"

"Who the fuck is this?!" came the other teenager's reply, instantly awake.

"I'll have you know I'm not fucking gay you shitty moss-head! And what kind of technique is that!?" ranted Sanji, "Who the fuck insults somebody and then leaves their fucking number?! Did you take one too many blows to the fuckin-

"Curly-brow?!" demanded the other guy, suddenly realizing who it was, and Sanji glowered at his bedroom wall, "What- Why the fuck are you yelling?!"

"I'm not gay!" screamed Sanji into the phone.

Then it was quiet, as Sanji took a deep breath to calm himself, and the other guy quietly asked, "What the fuck?"

"The sign- That was my shitty fucking coworkers playing a fucking joke! I'm not gay! I'm totally a thousand fucking percent straight and you- you- fuck you!" said Sanji angrily, "I'm not interested."

There was a pause, and then, "So why the hell are you calling me?"

"Because- Because- I'm - I'm not gay!" came the reply, and Sanji sat back, feeling dizzy. Why was he calling Zoro?

There was a silent pause, and then the swordsman grunted as he said, "I get that. So why the fuck are you calling me? Is that it?"

Sanji paused, feeling a bit delirious. This was a bad decision. He definitely should not have dialed that number. Zoro's breath was burning in his ear, though the swordsman could barely be heard.

So he hung up.

Zoro stared incredulously at his phone as he sat up from the couch. After coming back home that night, he had honestly not expected a phone call. He'd just headed home and crashed on his couch, his muscles still feeling deliciously sore from practice. Then the phone call came, and a grating voice was yelling in his ear, raspier than Zoro remembered thanks to the phone. It took Zoro several minutes to realize it was the shitty barista.

Then the barista hung up.

Zoro stared at his phone, trying to figure out if that really just happened. Then he burst into laughter. The blonde was absolutely nuts. It was pretty damn funny. He couldn't believe the blonde was so defensive over his sexuality that he'd called Zoro to yell about it. He could practically picture his red flushed face in his mind. It was a damn shame he wasn't gay.

The doorbell rang, and Zoro picked himself up and walked to the front door, out of the living room and passing the stairs to his bedroom. Outside the door was a pig-tailed girl, dressed in a blue and black striped hoodie and jeans, standing there and beaming at him with all the self-imposed importance twelve year old kids had. In her hand was a large container and a thermos.

"Rika," he said casually, "Come inside."

"Zoro! How was your day? I brought the bentou!" she said happily, leading him into his kitchen. It was a sign of how undomesticated he was that Rika knew where the plates and chopsticks were and he floundered to find the cups until she reminded him they were in the red cabinet. She'd sticker coded them when she discovered he still couldn't find his stuff. Usually he just kept a plate and cup by the sink for all-purpose use. He had a feeling she'd label the cupboards soon enough.

"You can tell Ririka she doesn't have to keep feeding me," said Zoro sheepishly, but he didn't deny himself the leftover yakiniku Ririka probably made with him in mind. It was a large piece of warmed meat, tender to the tongue, and the vegetables were lightly stir-fried beside it and just slightly crisper than they would be if they were fully cooked.

"You know mom," said Rika easily, "Japanese stick together and something."

"She's a good lady," agreed Zoro, and they ate in a comfortable silence, he eating his meat, while Rika drank the hot chocolate she'd brought with her out of the thermos. After Rika had watched him eat his entire dinner, she pounced.

"So, why were you so happy when I got here? And don't tell me it's about the dinner," said Rika lightly.

"Phone call," grunted Zoro back, as he put the dishes in the sink. Rika was behind him, already cleaning them. They both knew Zoro would let the dishes rot until Ririka came over and yelled at him about it, and thus put Zoro into a shamed state to clean his dishes for the next week before he just forgot about it all over again.

"From a friend?" asked Rika, sounding amazed.

"I have friends," said Zoro with a frown.

"Not friends you talk to on the phone," said Rika pointedly. Cheeky little brat. He preferred her when she was still ten and saw her as the hero who saved her from that bratty bully Helmeppo who lived up the Street.

"If you plan to use the television, you'll shut up," grunted Zoro back, before he headed to the living room with Rika following and chattering away about school and the cell phone she wanted, and then the two were quiet as Rika used the big screen to watch her television dramas.

The next day at school, Sanji was still fuming. He couldn't believe how stupid he had been to actually call Zoro. He was still fuming and humiliated as he finished his test in history. Mr. Anjo, an avid fan of war and weaponry and rebels, had just finished teaching them about the First World War, and while Sanji cared little for history, it was an easy course to pass if you were able to recite battle and weaponry to the man. And if you threw in a comparison to Gol. D Roger somewhere in there, you were guaranteed to ace the course.

As Sanji left the classroom, he meandered over to the counselor, Mr. Woop-Slap's office. This was not the first time he had been called there this year. It was probably not going to be the last either. Woop-Slap's office was by the gyms, with the main office, and it always had a bit of a funky smell. Nonetheless, Sanji braved the stench to arrive at the main office.

The secretary, Chiken, was seated in her regular spot. The matronly woman was plump, short, and had a sweet disposition. She beamed at Sanji, and pointed him to a chair.

He sighed and sat back, knowing what this was about. As he sat down, he glanced over his clothes again. His blue and white striped shirt was neat and pressed, with a black pair of jeans that was also neatly pressed. His hair was covered in hair spray, his shoes shined. He was practically the poster boy for good behavior. And still he was always in Woop-Slap's damn office almost every week. At least he didn't live right next door to man like Luffy did. Luffy got lectured practically every day about he was putting the East Blue to shame by trying to emulate Gol D. Roger.

"Send the boy in!" crowed the old man, and Chiken made a face, before picking up the phone to dial a number.

Sanji was already inside Woop-Slap's office by the time Chiken started to talk. Woop-Slap was not only the guidance counselor, or at least, an unofficial counsellor, but also the principal. Who had too much spare time, thought Sanji, as he took a seat across from the eccentric old principal. As per usual, the man was staring at him with a short grey beard and moustache, his glasses slightly falling down his bulbous nose, and the ridiculous red-and-white striped bucket-shaped hat on his head.

"Mr. Black," said the man, glaring at Sanji. He was skipping the nice guy act to go directly for intimidation today. "Have you considered the options I presented you last week?"

"I have," said Sanji with a nod, "And I'm confident that my decision was the right one."

"Mr. Black! I think you're selling yourself short!" said Woop-Slap, scandalized, "You have so much potential! At least consider-

"Mr. Woop Slap, I- I've made up my mind a long time ago," said Sanji deliberately, "I think we're done here."

Sanji rose. For once, Mr. Woop-Slap was quiet, not saying a word about the situation. Instead, he was quiet and contemplative. Sanji felt unnerved, so he walked out. His heart was pounding, and he saw Chiken's concerned glance, but he ignored it. He needed air. Lots and lots of air. And a kitchen. He needed to cook something.

As he walked, he suddenly heard the sound of something smashing. He turned, and headed in that direction, somewhat stunned. It was coming from the gym. He opened it, only to see the Kendo team practicing. More specifically, Zoro was practicing.

He stopped in his tracks.

Zoro had two swords in his hands, wooden swords, but swords nonetheless. One of the junior member of the teams, Yokaku or something, was flat on his back, looking stunned. Zoro grinned at him, and Sanji felt a shiver go down his spine at that grin. It was dark and dangerous, as the bronze warrior's eyes narrowed, and his entire face lit up.

"Next!" called Zoro, and the next member of the team went up. Sanji watched, mesmerized. He had no idea what sort of training they were doing, but apparently, Zoro was going against the entire team of twelve or thirteen. The youngest members, probably the freshmen, were still learning the basics of the sword and were watching from the sidelines, though they looked more like fan-girls as the hooted and hollered at Zoro. The coach, Koshiro, was watching their technique from the side.

The most intriguing part of this was that it was nothing like the few Kendo tournaments Sanji had seen before. The styles were completely different. No two people had the same style. Zoro had two swords, and he wasn't the only one. Two other boys had two swords as well. Zoro took them down without breaking a sweat.

He moved quicker than a guy his size should. He was effortless and graceful as he danced with the sword, parrying the other guy's thrusts and movements with his own. His sword rose up, matching the other student's, while the second danced outwards. They were done before the fight even took off. It was oddly disappointing to watch Zoro fight. His level of skill was too apparent. Sanji almost wondered what the man would be like if he was fighting someone who provided real competition.

The last person to go up was equally as famous as Zoro. Cabaji was well known for always taking second place, and like Zoro, he was using two swords. He was in a few of Sanji's classes, and a bit of an annoying fuck. But watching him fight Zoro, Sanji almost had respect. Cabaji struck low and fast, before flipping fucking backward to avoid Zoro's swords. Zoro was unimpressed, as he struck out with his second sword to smack Cabaji's leg and sending the other guy tumbling backwards. Cabaji was up in seconds, and struck out at Zoro's knees.

Then the fight started to degrade. Cabaji was getting more and more desperate, as Zoro blocked the other guy's swords that came to strike down fast and hard. Zoro lashed out, his arm muscles rippling as he brought his sword to strike across Cabaji's chest. Cabaji ducked and ran at Zoro, slashing into Zoro's sides, managing to land a blow. Zoro grunted, but moved backwards to block the second sword's blow. He used the second sword to defend as Cabaji tried again.

Cabaji kicked out, this time snapping Zoro's side where he'd hit earlier. Zoro didn't flinch, but several of the other team members were calling foul, and at that point, Koshiro ended the fight. Sanji's own heart was pumping with adrenaline, anger flooding his chest. The fucking cheap shot!

Zoro accepted a towel from another member of the team, Johnny from English class, and then saw Sanji. Their eyes met, and Sanji was stunned by those dark, dangerous looking black eyes, boring into his own. He swallowed, and suddenly Zoro was beside him, and he was staring into those eyes right in front of his face.

"What are you doing here dart-brow?" asked Zoro, not coming off particularly aggressive, but not entirely pleased either.

"I- What the fuck is this?!" asked Sanji, clearing his throat and tearing his gaze away as he pointed to the team, "That's clearly not Kendo!"

Zoro frowned, but didn't say anything. Instead, he glanced back at the team that was starting to disperse after that last exercise. His frown deepened, and he sighed as though he wasn't surprised practice was over so soon.

"Wait here and I'll explain when I get back," said Zoro flippantly, before he headed off to the locker room.

Sanji found to his surprise that he was still waiting when Zoro came back.

Zoro wasn't easily surprised. Probably because he just didn't let things get to him. As he was changing in the locker room, he heard the other boys hiss and make sympathetic comments about the bruise developing above his hip bone, but he ignored them. It was his own fault for not realized Cabaji would pull that move. The fucker was pretty predictable in his unpredictability. He ignored everyone as he changed, and then headed back outside to find the blonde still standing where he left them.

He couldn't help checking the blonde out, despite the vehement assurance that he wasn't gay. The guy had amazing legs, anyone could tell with those jeans. His back was turned, so Zoro got a nice view of that ass. An amazing ass that should never be behind the counter. Bent over, yes, god yes. He wanted to see the blonde bent over a counter more than anything.

Shaking away that thought, that deliciously sinful thought, he tapped the blonde on the shoulder. He turned, and Zoro caught whiff of some kind of cologne. It wasn't a bad smell, but it was extremely overpowering and for the life of him Zoro couldn't figure out why anyone would spray what must have been half a bottle onto their body. It was sort of disgusting.

"Well?" asked the blonde, as the two headed out. Zoro had his backpack slung over his shoulder, unlike the blonde who carried a frigging man-purse to school. How was he not gay?

Zoro took a deep breath and then grinned, remembering the blonde's question. He turned and casually asked, "Ever heard of the One Piece?"

"The One Piece? You mean- that League thing?" asked Sanji, a little taken aback.

"It's a rumor, pretty cheap rumor," said Zoro casually, "But the idea is that the GLFL grants the One Piece to strong fighters. There's a whole list of criteria, but the One Piece is the grandest title the GLFL offers."

"The GLFL? You mean the fighter's league?" asked Sanji, following the conversation now, "Yeah I've heard of that. The One Piece is supposedly granted to the strongest person that enters the GLFL, right? Luffy wants to win that, but isn't it supposed to be like, only won through illegal fighting?"

Zoro nodded and tacked on, "Only one person's won it before, and that was Gol. D Roger before his assassination."

They both took a moment to let that sink in. It was no secret story. The Grand Line's Fighter's League was a pretty famous association. They fought televised matches of different kind, using different techniques. Gol D Roger had been considered the best of the best until his mysterious death right in their hometown. It was the only reason people visited the East Blue, to see the spot where Roger died. Zeff had often spoke of the GLFL's prowess when Roger was alive, telling Sanji the tale when he'd been just a kid as their version of a bed-time story.

"So that's it? You're going to try and win a mystery reward? Good luck with that shit-head. What does that have to do with the Kendo club being nothing like Kendo?" asked Sanji skeptically, and then he snorted. Trust the muscle head to have such a stupid ambition.

"I don't give a fuck about the One Piece. Luffy can chase after that," said Zoro, looking annoyed, as he glared back at Sanji, "Besides, it's not a reward offered by the GLFL. After Roger's death, he left a message, like a suicide note, claiming the One Piece existed. But because of that, every Tom, Dick and Harry who can fight goes to the city to join the GLFL. But the GLFL's just a front."

Again, common knowledge. The GLFL's was a front for the GLPL, a league of fighters that was supposedly 'dirty' fighting, with high-stakes betting, and danger at every corner. And lots of money in the GLPL. Tonnes and tonnes of money.

"It's a front for the GLPL," said Zoro with a grin, "The Grand Line's Pirate League. Stupid name, but the largest underground fight club to ever exist. And it's famous for boosting fighter's like that. You fight anyone and everyone, any style, no hold's barred. And the winners move around a lot, gaining fancy titles. What you saw back there was kind of like that. Koshiro doesn't believe in teaching one style of martial art, so he teaches us all kinds of swords techniques. Kendo just happens to be the main focus when you start out. And then we get to free-style with each other."

"But- But- all the trophies-

"Still happen," said Zoro casually, "But that's more official jargon so Woop-Slap doesn't question into it too much. This is the real training."

He watched the blonde simmer in those words, taking in what Zoro was saying, before giving Zoro a skeptical look as they left East Blue High behind and headed outdoors onto the street towards the Town Square where all the shops were, and where the roads diverged.

"So- You're telling me that you're running a mini-GLPL in the school?" asked Sanji, a little stunned.

"Yep," said Zoro with a wide grin, his face blooming with excitement, "And it's not like Koshiro's training us against everyone. He's just preparing us, y'know?"

"Fuck," said the blonde, amazed, "But you're all swordsman! How is that proper preparation if you're just fighting other swordsmen?"

"It's not the best," agreed Zoro, "But occasionally he invites the boxing club by, and whatnot. The point is to train and fight one another whenever we can. And besides, this is still a high school. The real stuff begins when we get to the Grand Line."

"Fuck," said the blonde again, "That's pretty- wow. So then that's your plan? Join the GLPL?"

Zoro wasn't surprised the blonde figured it out. He grinned, his eyes gleaming as he nodded with pride and said, "Join the GLPL and win. A lot."

"Win what? If you're not going for the One Piece, then why bother?" asked Sanji, confused.

"It's not about the One Piece," said Zoro with an impatient glance, "It's about the title. I'm going to be the World's Greatest Swordsman!"

He didn't know why he was sharing all this with the blonde, dumping his ambition onto him. But there was something about him that was easy to talk to. The blonde wasn't going to judge him. He just knew it. Besides, there was nothing wrong with telling the world. After all, he was positive he was going to get there.

"That's pretty- wow," said the other guy, after a bit of contemplation and hesitation. But his face still seemed impressed. "Good luck, I guess."

"Thanks," said Zoro with a grin.

"You want a coffee?" asked Sanji suddenly, as they headed in the direction of his store and Zoro's house.

"Definitely."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References made in this chapter:
> 
> Rika- The little girl who gives Zoro onigiri in his intro story, her mother is Ririka
> 
> Helmeppo- The kid of the marine Zoro and Luffy fight in their first dual battle
> 
> Shell Street- The Town Zoro's introduced in, and Rika's home town is Shell Town
> 
> Mr. Anjo- Introduced in Logue-town, he's the guy who's the random Gol. D Roger Fan (As according to the One Piece Wiki)
> 
> Chiken- A woman from Luffy's old town
> 
> Woop-Slap- The mayor from Luffy's hometown that hates pirates
> 
> Cabaji- Buggy's first mate, the acrobatic swordsman


	3. Running

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanji runs away from the Baratie. Zoro learns that the cook's running from a whole lot more.

Somehow, after their cataclysmic first meeting, Zoro and Sanji ended up becoming sort-of friends, sort-of enemies. Zoro still thought the blonde was a fucking moron, especially once he witnessed Sanji's attempt at flirting, but he stayed because he was attracted to the blonde, and because the blonde was just good fucking company. Sanji still thought Zoro was a fucking idiot, especially after he tried to send Zoro to buy some milk and Zoro ended up on the other side of town, but he respected Zoro a lot, and found him to be just good fucking company.

Everyday after practice, Zoro would stop by for coffee. He was now sitting at the cafe in the evenings, and Sanji knew his order by heart. Americano and the wasabi and tuna sandwich. He wasn't much of an adventurous guy when it came to his food. During Zoro's coffee time, the two would shoot the shit about teachers, Zoro's training, and just anything in general. Around six o'clock, Nami and Usopp would come in about ten minutes before Zoro left himself, and for some reason, they'd join Zoro at his table, which was how Zoro was introduced to the witch. She'd paid for them once, and somehow Zoro owed her fifty beri for not paying her back. But she was pretty funny once they got to it. And she took care of Usopp and Luffy.   
He was still a little ticked off that neither Luffy nor Usopp had introduced him to the blonde, but quickly he realized that they only knew Sanji through the cafe, and that he'd been the one to turn them down in favor of training or sleeping. Still though, he felt like he'd known the blonde forever. 

So today, when the blonde stormed out of the cafe, he was compelled to follow. Sanji's face had been red with anger, and he banged his precious coffee shop door shut. Leaving behind half an Americano, and the front counter in Patty's questionable hands, he followed Sanji outside. The blonde looked furious. To his surprise, the blonde ducked into an alleyway, and Zoro was amazed as he dug into his pocket and pulled out a packet of cigarettes.

"Sanji?" asked Zoro questioningly, as the man fumbled with a lighter, and then pulled out a cigarette, gracefully lit it, and then took a drag in the span of a second. He didn't cough, didn't falter, just leaned back into the wall, a blissful expression taking his features. Probably how he looked after sex, after the orgasm. A theory Zoro would never prove true.

"Oh- hey," said Sanji, glancing at him.

"You smoke," said Zoro, silently demanding the back-story.

"I was thirteen and the guy who used to deliver our groceries offered me a smoke," said Sanji with a grin, as he slumped down to the ground in that dirty alleyway, "Never looked back since."

"The cologne," said Zoro suddenly, "That's why you smell like a perfume shop. It's to cover the cigarettes."

"Zeff hates the habit," said Sanji, as he brought his thin fingers back up to his lips, taking another drag. Zoro was amazed at the way his lips pursed around the thin cigarette, before twisting to blow out the smoke. He was completely at peace. "And it's not allowed at school. If they catch a whiff they'll check my bag and locker, and then Zeff will realize I'm smoking."

"He doesn't seem like that," said Zoro, sitting down beside Sanji and admiring the way the blonde looked when he was relaxed.

"He doesn't give a fuck about the fact that I'm underage if that's what you mean," said Sanji with a grin, "He just hates that it dulls the taste buds. Makes you a bad chef."

"You cook?" asked Zoro, amazed.

"I'm a chef, not a cook!" said Sanji with a glare, "And yeah. What the hell do you think I do at night?"

"Wank," said Zoro casually, and Sanji spluttered, before they both burst into laughter.

"You're a bastard," said Sanji with a glare, but he was still grinning about it.

"So, you any good ero-cook?" asked Zoro with a raised eyebrow.

"Good? I'm the fucking best!" said Sanji, spluttering, before he grinned and said, "Tonight. At your place. Let's go."

"What?" asked Zoro, gaping.

"I'm going to cook for you shithead! Now c'mon!" said Sanji, getting up and leading them out of the alley and towards Zoro's house.

It was as he was fumbling with the keys that Sanji realized Zoro was nervous to have him over at his house. It was sort of weird to see Zoro nervous, but Sanji thought it was pretty fucking hilarious. The bastard was acting all antsy and jumpy as he shoved away his dirty clothes into a nearby coat closet and directed Sanji and the newly bought groceries to the kitchen.  
Then the doorbell rang.

Sanji gazed curiously past Zoro as the swordsman opened the door to reveal a small brunette girl, who was already holding a container of food. Both of them paused awkwardly, as the girl saw Sanji and Zoro.

"Oh!" said the girl, gasping, "I didn't know you had friends Zoro! You should have told mom!"

"Sister?" asked Sanji, a little confused.

"Rika!" exclaimed Zoro, "He's not my friend! He's just- nevermind. Just give me the fucking container and get."

The girl giggled as she handed him the container, and Zoro flushed as she headed off. Sanji watched the exchange in amusement, before realizing the container had a meal, looking suspiciously like rice and something green, possibly sea-weed. Curious, Sanji raised his visible eyebrow as they returned to the kitchen.

"Rika's mom cooks for me," explained Zoro, as he tucked it into the fridge, "Rika comes over and then watches T.V here."

"I thought it was something like that," said Sanji with a shrug, "But why?"

"My dad," said Zoro with a grimace, "He works for the government, so he travels a lot. Honestly, he's only home for about a week every few months or so. I used to have a nannies, but after the one I liked passed away when I was fifteen, we just agreed to this. I didn't want anyone taking care of me. Rika's mom does it instead."

"That's pretty nice of her," said Sanji quietly, thinking about his father-son relationship, and the source of his current frustration. It was so different from the easy father-son relationship Zoro had with his dad.

"Yeah. So, are you going to cook?" asked Zoro, as he took a seat on the bar stool at the counter.

"Course," said Sanji with a nod, "Where are the knives?"

Zoro stared at him blankly in response. Sanji gaped at the man. He honestly had no clue how to work a kitchen! After muttering a few expletives, and another argument, Sanji managed to figure out the sticker coding system, and find a decent, unused set of cooking knives, a chopping board that had seen better days, and two pans that looked brand-spanking new. He grabbed a pan from the oven, that looked clean, but still he cleaned it again. It was pretty fucking awful; the state of Zoro's kitchen.

Immediately Sanji set to work, quiet and in his element. He never preferred talking in the kitchen. He'd had to sneak into his own house and grab the spices, not wanting to waste money on buying Zoro a set he'd probably never use. Nonetheless, it was worth it.

The first thing he did was toss the various spices into the smaller pan, mixing peppercorn, coriander seeds, cumin seeds, mustard seeds, garlic cloves, fennel seeds, cardamom pods, a cinnamon stick, and salt into the pan. As the aromas lifted off the pan, he inhaled, and then relaxed. Any nervousness about cooking for Zoro faded into white noise as he moved easily through the kitchen. Five minutes later, he was transferring the spice mixture into his coffee grinder (Zeff had bought it for him three years ago) and then began rubbing it onto the hulk of beef that they'd bought at the grocery store. Zoro had plucked the biggest fucking piece up. Immediately it went to the bigger pan, browned, and then he tucked it into the oven to roast.

Hands were washed again. Then he moved on to make the salad. After learning Zoro was from Japan, he'd wanted to experiment more with Japanese styled foods. Getting out a pot, he began boiling water with some salt, while washing the pans. The peas were blanched, and then he hit a problem. Zoro had no colander to drain the fucking peas. Grumbling and swearing restarted as he had to scoop the peas out with a fucking spoon. Somewhere in that mess, Zoro apologized and helped him scoop the peas out.

And it devolved into a competition.

"Don't fucking splash me shit cook!" yelled Zoro angrily.

"Drop the second fucking spoon moss-head!" came Sanji's angry retort, "You're squishing them!"

Zoro was banned back to his stool.

Sanji moved on, grabbing the kohlrabi bulbs. Kohlrabi bulbs were were green, somewhat like brussel sprouts, but with thin stalks leading up to floppy green leaves that were sheared off. The bulbs were a bit difficult to find, but Sanji knew the guy who ran the vegetable market, and he pulled them out when Sanji asked. Once he had peeled and julienned them, he tossed them into a bowl with some shoots. Sesame seeds were ground and toasted in the small pan again, before adding them to the bowl. He tossed the peas in, and then quickly blended soy sauce, some water, mirin he'd stolen from Zeff's cabinet, and water to together to make the dressing. The beef was pulled out and cut into pieces, placed onto a plate. And it was done.

"That was pretty impressive," said Zoro, as Sanji finally took a breath. He was grinning madly, but it had been so long since he'd challenged himself outside of the usual recipes he made at the cafe.

"Thanks," said Sanji with a grin, "Try it."

He shoved Zoro's plate forward, as he went ahead and pulled out two mugs (he winced at that) and poured the two of them some wine. Zoro knew a guy who didn't check IDs, or he recognized one of the kids, Yosaku (not Yokaku) whose dad apparently owned the liquor store. Sanji wasn't too sure about it. Zoro had just showed up with the booze after going missing for ten minutes.

"It's- not bad," said Zoro finally, after he took the first bite of the beef. But Sanji knew better. Zoro's eyes had widened considerably, and he had this amazed look on his face. Sanji was grinning ear to ear, and he felt like he'd just won a race.

"Fuck you're a shitty liar," said Sanji with a grin, "It's fucking amazing, that's what it is."

"It's not bad for a dart-brow," said Zoro, as he dug into the meat, practically moaning (in Sanji's mind) over the taste. "You know, this is pretty fucking girly of you. Making me dinner."

Sanji suddenly stopped, wine halfway to his lips. Then he suddenly remembered a helluva lot of things. One, Zoro and he had only become friends because Zoro had tried to pick him up. And then they were here, with Sanji making him dinner, with wine, in a low light setting (Because two of the lights in Zoro's kitchen were missing bulbs). This was like a fucking date!

"I'm not gay fucker!" came the reply, and Sanji glared at him, "And I'm no fucking girl. Now shut up and eat."

Wisely, Zoro didn't broach that topic as they ate in a slightly awkward, and then pleasant silence.

After dinner, Zoro and Sanji and the bottle of wine relocated to the living room to talk and just be themselves. Sanji had done the dishes before putting everything away. The leftover beef and salad were made into a container so Zoro didn't have to buy lunch tomorrow.

"So, want to tell me why you left work early?" asked Zoro curiously, as the two sat down.

The cook was a pretty fantastic chef, if Zoro had to admit it. Not that he would, of course. Instead, he preferred wine and awkward insults. Despite the very date-like atmosphere, he was trying to ignore that trail of thought. Even if the cook was wearing those black jeans again.

"The shitty old man and Woop-Slap had a fucking conversation about my future," said Sanji with a scowl, glaring furiously at the counter, "And apparently think I'm making the wrong fucking decisions with my life."

"Why? What did you tell them?" asked Zoro, confused. Now that he thought about it, for a guy he thought he'd known his entire life, he didn't know shit about the cook.

"Zeff," said Sanji with a grimace, "He's- I mean- He's not my real dad. I- we- I mean- Fuck. My dad used to work on a cruise-liner back when I was younger. I grew up in the kitchens. My mom had left us a long fucking time ago, and I don't even remember her. Anyways, the cruise-liner got caught in a bad storm one night, and it was a small boat. We capsized. I don't know what happened to the rest of the survivors, but my dad didn't make it. Zeff did. Long story short, Zeff adopts me, and we open the Baratie."

"Fuck," said Zoro, as Sanji took another drink of the wine, "That's pretty awful."

He didn't apologize. He doubted Sanji would appreciate it. Besides, he knew what awful felt like. He listened, however, as Sanji continued and said, "I've worked at the Baratie my whole fucking life. Every day, I was there, peeling shit and cutting things and the old bastard hovered over me, made sure I didn't fucking cut myself and whatnot. He thinks I'm just going to fucking leave the Baratie behind!"

"He wants you to go?" asked Zoro, surprised.

"He thinks I have opportunity in the city," corrected Sanji miserably, "And I don't want the opportunity! I'm fucking fine right here, at the Baratie."

Zoro stared at the way Sanji's hand tightened around the mug, and his shifty blue eye, avoiding Zoro's face. His skin was pink. There was more to the story than Sanji was saying, but Zoro didn't comment. Instead, he let the thought simmer.

Then he asked quietly, "Are you?"

"Yeah," said Sanji, and Zoro knew he was lying, but he let it go.

The rest of the night moved into safer topics, like Sanji's cooking and his childhood at the Baratie. Zoro didn't talk much, instead letting Sanji try and convince him that the Baratie was what he wanted. They both ended up crashing in the living room on the black couch, both wondering if Sanji really wanted a life at the Baratie.


	4. Building

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoro feels the pressure from all sides. Sanji gets sick.

The next week brought them even closer to Sanji's eventual demise. He just didn't know it yet.

His fight with Zeff had escalated, and neither of them were talking to each other. As a result, he had nowhere really to go after school since he was banned from the Baratie. Well, it wasn't so much a ban as it was that it had the possibility of running into Zeff, which resulted in an eventual shouting match. He didn't know why the old man was even bothering. It was too late to do anything anyways. Thus, he'd ended up at Zoro's place, cooking for the fiend.

"I don't think my kitchen has ever been used like this before," commented Zoro, as Sanji cooked a light stir-fry for the two to eat.

"Please," said Sanji with a lecherous grin, "It was practically a virgin until I broke it in."

"Oh really?" commented Zoro, grinning easily, before the two burst into giggles like schoolboys.

As Sanji caught his breath, he stood to catch sight of Zoro. Zoro who was currently pumping his arm up and down while lifting a weight. His breath caught for a second. Ever since he'd befriended Zoro, he was constantly amazed at the sheer Zoro-ness of the man. He was completely oblivious to everything around him that deviated from his goal. It was sort of intoxicating being around someone who was so completely devoted to his dream.

Maybe that's why Zoro was attractive. Not to him. And not in any  _sexual_  sort of way. It was just- there. Like today, for instance. At the butcher's, one of the counter girls had started to flirt with Zoro. It had completely thrown Sanji off when Zoro hadn't shrugged her off, and had casually accepted her number. He was still reeling from that moment.

"So, the girl at the meat shop, you going to call?" asked Sanji casually, as he added in the meat to the stir-fry he was making for the two of them.

"Huh? Maybe," said Zoro with a shrug, "Probably not. She looks like she wants a relationship, and I don't really do relationships."

"Why?" asked Sanji, taken aback.

"Gets in the way," said Zoro with a grunt, "They always want to go on dates, or call late at night and text, and I have to train."

"So what- picking me up was just to get a free night of sex?" asked Sanji, a bit affronted.

Zoro shrugged, "Well, you cooking in my kitchen sure wasn't a part of the plan. I'm pretty sure the stove will never be the same again."

"It might mutiny and kill you when Zeff eventually gets over himself and I have to leave," agreed Sanji solemnly, though he was still a little irked at the thought of just being a casual lay to Zoro. Fucking Zoro.

Zoro shook his head and then the phone rang. It was such a strange thing to happen in the usually silent and empty house that Sanji actually jumped. Zoro was much calmer, and just grabbed the phone from the receiver in the kitchen, behind the toaster.

"Hello?" he said into the phone, and then scowled as he said, "Dad."

With a quick glance at Sanji, he left the room. That was fucking weird.

Sanji had gotten so used to Zoro living alone that he'd forgotten that Zoro even had a father. He shrugged it off, preferring to continue with the stir-fry. Once it was done, he poured it over the rice he'd made in the pot since Zoro obviously had no rice-cooker. Still muttering profanities about the state of Zoro's kitchen, he set about cutting the parsley and spring-onions to garnish their plates with.

Zoro came back with a blank expression. Sanji had learned to recognize that expression as his angry-but-more-disappointed face. He didn't say anything as he pushed the plate forward, and Zoro said nothing as they ate.

"Well?" asked Sanji, as Zoro did the dishes and Sanji took the seat on the bar-stool. For Zoro, it was a combination of helping Sanji out, and learning where the fuck everything was in his kitchen.

"He wanted to let me know he wasn't coming to my graduation," said Zoro with a shrug, "And that he'd paid off my credit card bills. His usual once a month phone call."

"Bastard," said Sanji sympathetically, and Zoro nodded in agreement. It was again, a testament to how often Sanji was here that he casually pulled out a cigarette and lit it up. Zoro already placed the chipped cup Sanji had deemed unsafe from drinking from in front of the guy to tip the ashes into.

"He's always been like that," elaborated Zoro, "Not really around. Hell, I can probably count the amount of times I've seen him on my hand. If he's lucky maybe both hands."

Sanji frowned at that. It wasn't fair to Zoro that he had to deal with that kind of neglect. Zoro, however, didn't seem to want to say anything more on the topic, and thus, they brushed it off in favor of exchanging jibes.

* * *

After Sanji left that night, Zoro felt the anger at his dad build up. Was it too much to fucking show his face? He spent the entire night training, before heading to school late. Practice at the club was shitty as per usual, and to top it all off, Koshiro pulled him aside again at the end of practice.

"Roronoa," said Koshiro with a nod, "Have you taken to heart what we discussed the other day?"

"Yes sensei," said Zoro respectfully.

Koshiro frowned, and then sighed as he said, "It's much better when you don't lie to me, Roronoa. I think you should take a break from the practices. Clearly you haven't taken my advice to heart. Perhaps some time to yourself will help you to reflect."

" _What_?!" demanded Zoro, his jaw dropped and the anger building again. How could Koshiro ban him from practice?! He  _neede_ d this! It was the only opportunity he got to fight others and improve, even if the only real challenge was Cabaji, and Zoro had already surpassed him ages ago.

"Roronoa," said Koshiro sternly, "Your grades have continued to slip. Not to mention you were late to school once again. You stayed up late training, did you not? It is not bad to be devoted, Roronoa. But there is always more to life beyond your swords. One day your arms will grow weak and limp, and you will not be able to move as agilely. Do not let that day be the end of who you are."

Zoro frowned, but nodded. He wasn't going to argue with Koshiro, after all. After taking a long shower, and avoiding the temptation to smack Cabaji across the head, he headed outside. It was late, and Sanji wasn't waiting for him. That was odd. Usually the cook was waiting with a bag of groceries to head back to Zoro's place.

Concerned, Zoro headed over to the Baratie.

When he arrived, the first person he ran into was Luffy, who was swiping dishes off the tables and munching on what appeared to be a leftover bagel. Immediately Zoro headed over and asked, "Where's the shit-cook?"

"Sanji? He's upstairs," said Luffy in surprise, as he stopped to stare at Zoro.

"Upstairs?" asked Zoro blankly.

"Yeah," said Luffy emphatically, "At his house."

"His house is upstairs?" asked Zoro again, feeling out of the loop.

"Yeah, I'll show you, c'mon!" said Luffy easily, leading Zoro out of the cafe, still carrying the dishes in the bin, and out into the back alleyway of the store. Out back was a door behind the shop that Zoro had never known existed. Luffy apparently did though, as he buzzed a ringer that appeared from nowhere.

"Who-zis?" came from the speaker, in Sanji's groggy voice.

"It's Zoro," said Luffy chirpily, "And Luffy."

"Oh. Hang on," said Sanji.

There was a buzz, like an apartment building, and then the door clicked open and the two headed inside. There was only a set of stairs, and another door probably connected to the restaurant. The two headed upstairs, and into the open door to find the shitty cook on the couch, red-faced and in his pyjamas. He was sick.

"Sanji! I brought Zoro! Are you sick?" asked Luffy, bouncing over to Sanji, as Zoro stared at the idiot.

"Yeah," said Sanji with a grimace, "It started raining last night."

"Moron," said Zoro easily, and Luffy frowned as he said, "Where were you?"

"At Zoro's," said Sanji easily, lying down and cuddling his pillow.

It was sort of erotic, seeing the cook sick. He had a naturally flushed appearance climbing his pale cheeks. He was sweating lightly too. His blonde hair was no longer fixed into place with hair-spray, but rather fell messily around his dumb head. Instead of his usual prim buttoned up shirts, he was in a fucking set of pyjamas. He was the only straight male that Zoro knew that owned a matching set of pyjamas, the button-up kind, with grey spatulas patterned over the red fabric. It was kind of stupid. And made Zoro's day just feel that much better.

"Why were you at Zoro's?" asked Luffy, incredulous.

"He was making me dinner," said Zoro with a grin, "Shitty cook can't stay out of the kitchen."

"No fair!" said Luffy aghast, "Sanji make me meat too! I want Sanji's cooking! Please? Pretty please? We're nakama, aren't we? Make me meat!"

"Fucking hell Luffy, don't you have a shift?" asked the cook, scowling.

"Make me meat!" demanded Luffy, and Sanji casually waved his hand as he replied, "Yeah yeah, I got it, make you meat. Now get."

Luffy grinned at the promise of meat, and left. The dishes were left behind. Zoro sighed as he glanced at the cook's make-shift couch-bed, and stared around. He had absolutely no clue how to take care of a sick person.

As though reading his thoughts, Sanji grimaced and said, "You can go. I can handle myself. And Zeff left some medicine for me. It looks worse than it is. Light fever and cough. I'll be back to normal in two days tops."

"Shut up. What the fuck are you wearing anyways, dart-brow?" asked Zoro with a scowl.

"It's called pyjamas," said Sanji, sniffing both from the cold and from arrogance, "Some of us don't sleep in the same thing we wear in public."

"I wouldn't be caught dead wearing that in public. Does Nami know you wear that?" asked Zoro with a wicked grin.

"Fuck you you shitty swordsman," came the reply, before drowning in a cough.

"Let's get you to bed," said Zoro with a sigh, lifting Sanji up lightly, and helping the other man into his bedroom.

Sanji groaned, but for the most part, complied. He was still cuddling the pillow. It was like he had suddenly devolved from a 17 year old into a child. Zoro wanted to laugh, but he doubted it would be appreciated. So instead, he unceremoniously dumped Sanji onto his bed.

Sanji's room was nothing like Zoro's home. It was neat, to the point of somewhat obsessive. The desk had a small stack of school books and a large stack of culinary books, which judging from the condition, were probably from the library. There were no posters, or calenders, or pictures at all, besides a small frame with Sanji and Zeff in it when Sanji must have been eleven or twelve, since he was Rika's size, and two were standing in front of a brand new Baratie. It had been turned to face away from Sanji's bed. Probably because of their recent fight.

"So," said Zoro pointedly, "What now?"

"Now I fucking sleep," said Sanji with a groan.

Sleep sounded good, thought Zoro, as he moved to examine Sanji's childhood photo. He was a pretty alright looking kid, if Zoro were to judge. He was kind of skinny though. A lot of skinny. Like he'd only recently discovered the merits of food. Zeff looked thinner too, no rotund belly and his face was somewhat gaunt. But for the most part, they were both pretty happy. Grinning like they had won the lottery as they stood in front of the cafe.

Zoro had never had a moment like that with anyone before. Maybe Kuina, back when he was young and stupid, but never mutual. There was no moment of shared happiness that he could think of. It felt so foreign.

As he placed the picture down, he heard Sanji's light snores. Zoro turned to find the cook curled into a fetal position, cuddling his pillow and blue eye snapped shut. Shaking his head, Zoro turned to leave. Except that's when the pamphlet caught his eye. Curious, he pulled out a large, but very cared for brochure from between Sanji's school books.

It was dog-eared and creased, to the point where little white lines broke the front page. Probably from overuse. There were small tears threatening the age, but for the most part it was well-maintained. Across the front was the picture of a large building, with the words, _Grand Line Academy_  plastered on the front.

Zoro curiously flipped the page, and immediately, the brochure turned to the most visited section. The  _Momoiro Academy for the Culinary Arts_. Zoro sucked in a breath, and sat down on the chair in near shock. Two weeks of listening to Sanji rant about wanting to stay at the Baratie with Zeff, the sneaking suspicion it wasn't true, all proved in one moment.

The school was fancy, for sure. Deadlines for applications were in March, and it was April already. It had been too late for Sanji to apply. Circled lovingly in pen was the words  _Momoiro Award_. Zoro's eyes roved over the section.

_The_ _Momoiro_ _Award is awarded to the most promising young chef at the end of his_ _two years of_ _stud_ _y_ _at the_ _Momoiro_ _Academy_ _of Culinary Arts (MACA). To achieve the award, the young chef in training must show compassion for his work, a dedication to learning, and a desire to improve continuously. He or She must maintain a standard of academic integrity at Honours Level and be the top of his class. He or She must then present a unique and new dish to a panel of judges at the end of his school term to be evaluated. If his dish succeeds in impressing all the judges, then he will be granted the_ _Momoiro_ _Award, a million beri grant_ _to further his endeavors in the study of the culinary arts_ _._

So this was why the cook was hesitating. This was his dream. To win this award. Zoro tucked the package away, confused as he stared at Sanji. For the life of him he just couldn't figure out why the cook was hesitating so much if he wanted this so badly. The anger was building again.


	5. Getting Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanji cooks dinner for five. Zoro feels his temper rise.

By the time Sanji was recovered from his cold, Luffy had informed Usopp and Nami of his arrangement involving cooking for Zoro, and Zeff had mostly cooled his temper. Or at least, he was desperate enough to call Sanji back to work as Patty kept insulting customers and driving them away. 

That was how Sanji found himself in front of Nami, Usopp and Luffy at the end of his shift, all three heading with him to Zoro's house for dinner. He didn't really mind their company, and he adored Nami, it just felt sort of weird to have them around during his time with Zoro. Nonetheless, he took it in stride.

“Ah Nami my darling,” said Sanji gleefully, “Please, allow me to carry your bag for you so that you don't strain yourself in this blistering heat!”

“Sure Sanji,” said Nami easily, dumping the bag into his arms and he swooned. She was so pretty, it was hard not to swoon.

Her short flaming bob was pulled backwards on her head by a charming little head band, of a satiny white fabric. She was wearing a pretty blue dress, with white flowers plastered across it. She smiled so sensually. And her legs, by god, her legs. Those creamy, sinful legs. Sanji was in heaven as he followed her to Shell Street.

Behind him, Usopp was once again lying about some bullshit to Luffy about some bully he probably had run away from. The darker skinned boy had his hair pulled back by those ridiculous goggles he insisted on wearing, and his sling shot was out, so he was definitely discussing something stupid. Luffy's straw hat and frayed vest was lopsided, and Sanji repressed the urge to fix it. Why did he put up with these people again?

Legs. Right. Nami. 

This was so worth it. 

“And when we reach Grand Line I'll show all the teachers there about how great I can be!” concluded Usopp, sparking Sanji's interest.

“What's a little shit like you doing heading to the city?” asked Sanji, surprised.

“I got into Greenstone,” said Usopp, looking at Sanji curiously, “For the apprenticeship with Heracles to study applied chemistry. Didn't I tell you?”

“I- yeah- but- I thought that was like- in the North Blue or something!” said Sanji, suddenly struck with shock. “How- What?”

“I want to be a great man,” said Usopp stubbornly, more serious than Sanji had ever seen him, “And I can't be a great man if I'm just hanging around here. All the opportunity is in Grand Line city.”

Sanji clenched his fist and nodded coolly, as he said, “So, you head off next year by yourself?”

“Me too,” said Luffy brightly, “I'm dropping out. Dadan said it's okay because I'll be seventeen and that's legal. Usopp's arranging the transportation.”

“And Nami darling, what are your plans?” asked Sanji desperately.

“The Arlong Company offered me a full-time job with excellent pay,” said Nami thoughtfully, and Sanji's chest relaxed, before constricting again at her follow up words, “But I don't want to be a banker for the rest of my life, even if the pay is good. Nojiko thinks she's saved up enough money to start the smoothie and juicing thing she wanted to do, and Genzo and Belle-mere are helping out. Besides, Nojiko's got her kid to worry about now and if I want to be a good auntie to Chabo, I need to be something more exciting than a banker. In reality though, I'm free to do whatever I need now that Nojiko's getting on her own two feet and Belle-mere and Genzo are entering semi-retirement and just sticking to the orchard which will end up being a part of Nojiko's business anyways. And I have the admission to Weatheria College in hand, so might as well go, right? And it'll be fun!”

“Yeah,” said Sanji smiling a fake, large smile as he beamed at Nami, “You'll be a wonderful meteorologist, and one day I hope to see you over the DDM channel and be at your service!”

They were all smiling so happily, and Sanji felt so alone in that moment. He clenched the grocery bags tighter, and concentrated on the fact that he still had a few months before they were all gone, and he was left behind in the empty, endless East Blue. 

* * *

Zoro was watching his- people he knew? Friends?  _Not enemies?_ \- and Sanji with interest. This was the first time in his entire life he could recall having people over. Lots of people. Anyone besides Rika and her mother. It was the oddest experience of his life.

Nami had been the bitch she always was, poking at the boxers in the middle of the living room with haughty disdain before retreating to watch the television. He was pretty sure that if he searched her he'd find the missing ash-tray he'd pulled out for Sanji to use a few days ago. It was crystal. And also something his dad had collected with the express intent never to use. He should really be bothered to look for it and make sure that the bitch didn't pawn it off cheap. Then again, it was Nami. His dad would probably be pissed if he ever found out. 

Whatever.

Usopp had made a beeline for his television, figured out the settings that only Rika knew, and then put on the GLFL matches for Luffy and him to watch. Zoro was watching them from the opening in the kitchen wall, occasionally glancing at the television. Nami had scoffed, but judging from the way she was seated at the edge of her seat as Shura went head to head with Wiper, she was far from disinterested as she liked to portray. 

Shura was more of a spear user, whereas Wiper was more comfortable with a long range weapon and thus tended to win the competitions involving guns and long-range weaponry more often, but he was proficiently adept at hand to hand combat and occasionally sparred in these tournaments, which usually made the match a good one to watch. Shura's spear was a bit of a disadvantage however to the weaponless Wiper. Zoro was watching the fight with one eye, the other watching Sanji stir whatever ridiculously fancy food he was making now.

The blender went off.

“Drink, Nami-swan?!” called Sanji, already pouring out whatever ridiculously fruity concoction he'd made into an equally unpractical glass that looked like a distorted jug, adding fruit and swirls like he would if it were a cafe. He even added a dollop of whipped cream to the top, that Zoro still had no idea where it had come from.

“Thank you Sanji,” said the Queen, imperial as ever as she accepted the cup and Sanji swooned as her fingers lightly brushed his. She leaned back in the arm chair, and continued to watch the match pretending she had no interest or didn't see him clutching his hand and declaring himself so lucky while Usopp and Luffy laughed at him.

It was irritating.

There was something about Sanji fawning that Zoro found disgusting. It just wasn't right. The guy was a damn good cook, and he was usually pretty straight forward and took no shit from anybody, and then he just let Nami dump on him. Where was his pride as a man? Where was the backbone and snark that made Sanji the guy he was? Zoro looked away, almost as if mourning the loss of his friend to his base hormones, and then headed towards the garage.

“Whesh you goi'g Zo'o?” asked Luffy, as he chewed on the potato chips Sanji had whipped up for a snack, with bacon bits in Luffy's portion.

“Beer,” he grunted, and Nami called for one too. The chef looked crushed as she handed the fruity drink back to him, and threw him a glare. Zoro stiffened and ignored it as he headed to the garage.

When he returned, Nami took the first beer from his crate, while Sanji sulked in the kitchen. The cook was dicing up some garlic cloves. It was intriguing to watch the cook, well, cook. He moved effortlessly, tossing together spices to make a marinate for some pork. He thought back to the package he'd found in the room.  _Momoiro Academy of Culinary Arts._

“You want a beer?” he offered, holding the drink out.

The cook sniffed, and glared at the drink as though it was offensive as she said, “I don't want that stuff. I prefer the fine things in life.”

Pussy.

“What do you drink then?” asked Zoro with a snort, watching with interest now as Shura was declared winner of his match and the channel flipped to the advertisements and sponsor messages. 

“Wines, champagne,” said the cook easily, and Zoro snorted. “What?”

“Nothing,” said Zoro with a grin, “You're just a lightweight, aren't you dart-brow?”

He got a glower in return, and the cook snapped back, “Says the ass-hole drinking beer, shitty swordsman.”

“Oi! I'm a fucking amazing swordsman,” said Zoro with a growl, “Ten thousand times better than you. And I'm starting light fucker!”

“I could filet you with the knife in my hand before you could even draw your fucking swords. And seriously, two swords? What the fuck are you compensating for?” asked Sanji easily. Zoro seethed at the remark, even though a silly grin plastered its way onto his face. “And sure, you're starting light. I bet you couldn't handle a fucking drink.”

“You wan' to bet?” demanded Zoro, and the cook's eyes flickered with anger.

“What bet?” demanded Nami, popping into the kitchen out of nowhere, and Zoro jumped in surprise.

“I can out drink Zoro,” said Sanji stubbornly.

Nami raised an eyebrow, and then smirked as she purred, “Anyone can out drink Zoro. I bet I could too.”

Zoro twitched, his annoyance with Nami resurfacing as he snapped, “Oi! I can out drink both of you anyday!”

“After dinner then,” said Nami coolly, “Sanji can finish cooking, and then we drink. What's the stakes?”

Zoro faltered, and then narrowed his eyes at the witch. What stakes? He'd have just done it for free to embarrass the cook and see him flat out drunk.

“Anything you want, Nami-swan,” said the cook, beaming at her, making a twisted expression that Zoro almost gagged and laughed at from the failed attempt at coquettish flirtation that really looked like squinted eyes on a limp noodle.

“One hundred beri to the winner,” she declared automatically, and Zoro winced. She'd trapped them into a pretty fucking expensive bet.

“Fine,” groused Zoro, determined to out drink the woman anyways.

Nobody could hold a candle to him anyways.

* * *

After the bet was placed, Sanji was left alone to cook. Zoro headed to the garage with Nami, pulling in more crates of beer and from the kitchen cabinet, a few bottles of his preferred drink- sake. He had no clue what the others would drink, but if he was getting drunk, he was getting drunk on the good stuff. It had been a long time since he'd gotten properly drunk, a very long time indeed. He was usually caught up in training or sleeping because of training or meditation that Koshiro encouraged that he just didn't have time to get drunk. Johnny and Yosaku would drag him to the after parties of tournaments, which would usually be a good time to fuck and get drunk, but other than that, there was no real need to.

But he still liked alcohol, even without the goal to get drunk. Alcohol was forgiving in a way swords could never be. When meditation failed to numb the mind and sore muscles, alcohol was an easy vice. And conquering the vice that most men succumbed their control to made Zoro feel stronger. He was the master of his own drink because he had mastered his limitations, and could still flay anyone alive after ten drinks. 

When he returned to the kitchen area, Nami had her phone out, and judging from the scowl on her face, she was talking to her work-place. Nothing made Nami scowl more than the Arlong Corporate or whatever the fuck those loan sharks were called. All Zoro really knew about the place from whatever Sanji said was that Nami's parents owed a bit to the company, and that most of the people in Nami's neighborhood and the ones around her place did too.

“Bad news?” asked Zoro politely, placing the booze on the coffee table, as Usopp and Luffy finally turned from the tournament now that the advertisements and sponsors were on, to face Nami in concern.

“Those fucking bastards want me to come in to work the entire god-damned weekend with no overtime!” she yelled, hand tight around her cheap, cheap cell-phone. It was a goddamn flip phone, for crying out loud.

“Isn't that against the workers laws or something?” asked Usopp, concerned, before Sanji broke in and added, “Nami my angel, you should report them! That stuff is unethical. Zeff nearly got shut down three months after we opened the cafe and someone reported that Patty was working almost seventy-four hours a week.”

“Wait- what?” asked Zoro, side-tracked. He'd never heard this story before. Usually Sanji preferred funny customer stories.

“It was no big deal, Patty was an ex-con anyways, and Zeff managed to sweet talk them into letting it go because Patty was still on parole at the time,” said Sanji with a wave of his hand, “Besides, the issue was that you're technically only allowed to work nineteen hours a day, and Patty was practically living in our kitchen so there was a bunch of regulations and board people coming in. I barely remember it 'cause I was in the hospital at the time, but it almost took Zeff to court for the thing.”

“Hospital?” asked Usopp eagerly, "Did I ever tell you about the time that I was in the hospital and they took out all my organs?"

"Really?" asked Luffy, in awe, "Did they spread them on a table?" 

"They did," said Usopp proudly, "And they replaced them with super-organs so I'm literally made of steel!" 

"Whoa!" said Luffy, looking amazed and then tapping Usopp's stomach as though it were made of glass, "That's so cool!" 

“Wait- why?” asked Zoro, ignoring their banter and focusing on Sanji in surprise. 

“I was a sick kid,” came the blonde's reply, before turning back to Nami with that squinty-limp-noodle look, with an added touch of the curled lip pout-smile, “Now Nami my darling, tell us everything!”

“It's not a big deal,” said Nami with a sigh, “But even if I wanted to report them, I have a pretty strong feeling they have someone on the inside helping them. Or at least, someone who makes sure they don't get caught. Besides, I have no proof that they're doing anything wrong. Overworking me is hardly a crime.”

“But it is!” flourished Sanji, taking her hands in between his with a grandiose gesture, “An angel should not be forced into slavery like this! Let me help you, my sweet.”

Zoro refrained from stabbing Sanji's eyes out with his bottle. Just barely. This was the most awful thing mankind had ever had to sit through. It was demeaning and Zoro had to wonder if the blonde had ever fucked a woman before, let alone spoken to one, because this was shameful. Disgusting.

What a fucking virgin.

Sanji glowered at him, apparently having heard that. Oh. He'd said that out loud. Apparently unwilling to let go of Nami's hands, he grabbed the plastic tupperware that was emptied of whatever spice or shit Sanji had brought in it, and adeptly chucked it at Zoro's head. Zoro gracefully took the hit not because he didn't expect it but because he was a good person and he wanted Sanji to know he meant nothing by saying his thoughts out loud (and it barely hurt, despite the red mark on his forehead) as Sanji angrily said, “I'm no fucking virgin asshole. And please, refrain from being a fucking dickweed around the lady. It's not fucking classy. I'm sorry for his behavior Nami angel, he's  _such_  a pig. You were saying?”

“Yeah Nami- whash wrong?” asked Luffy, stuffing the last of the crumbs of the bacon-potato-skin into his mouth, before fixing her a serious look.

With an attentive audience, Nami seemed to grow two sizes taller, and tucked back a short orange lock, mustering the most serious expression Zoro had ever seen as she said, “My boss is absolutely awful! Arlong and his creepy coworkers are all disgusting, racist pigs! It's the worst place in the world to work, and the only reason I think they employ me is because they know I'm good at crunching numbers and doing my job. And since they're a privately owned bank and loan company, I can't report them to a human resources department. I would report them to a labor union or the police, but I'm the only member of the company that isn't a part of Arlong's creepy circle of middle-aged-men-friends, and they'd know it was me instantly and my family just can't afford that right now, not with Nojiko opening a business, or Chabo needing school supplies for at least another sixteen years! Belle-mere and Genzo have the orchard, but it's technically not in their name since they've mortgaged it at least twice with Arlong, and it's disgusting!”

When she was done ranting, her face was pink, and her eyes were welling with tears. Sanji already had a handkerchief ready, dabbing her eyes for her and she sniffled into it. Luffy was solemn as he said, “Do you want me to beat them up?”

“What?! Are you nuts Luffy! They're adults! You can't just go around beating up people!” said Usopp, staring at Luffy like he'd lost his mind.

Nami burst into watery laughter at that, and she grinned as she said, “It's not that big a deal. The money is worth it after all. I'm just making mountains out of nothing. But I hate my job, and it's awful. That said, it's just a few more months, only three until we graduate, and then five until we can leave this place behind for good and I don't have to deal with the Arlong Company ever again.”

“Y'know, I used to have a terrible job too,” began Usopp solemnly, his “I'm-going-to-tell-the-biggest-lie-with-the-most-serious-face-ever” look already in place, “And the boss was absolutely awful. But I rallied my gang of a 1000 guys, and we took over the company. Then I placed my second in command in charge because I wanted to study chemistry instead. So- if things get really bad- I can find a 1000 guys and er- I'll send them to you. I doubt that it'll get bad because that doesn't really happen, so er- yeah. ”

Nami giggled further at the cowardly offer of support. Sanji rolled his eyes, and the oven dinged.

“Meat!” roared Luffy, and the topic turned.

As the beef strips, the salad, the cooked chicken, something with artichokes, and the other green thing that looked suspiciously like spinach and onions and something fancy was set on the table, the topic went to lighter recounting of Usopp's apartment building on Syrop Street, and the promise of the Grand-Line between bites of delicious food, Zoro felt a strange sense of peace that had nothing to do with alcohol.  


	6. Drink Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The drinking contest occurs!

Dinner took almost an hour to wrap up. By the time they got through eating everything, which was really no problem considering Luffy made grabs for anything and everything, Sanji was exhausted. He plugged the sink and tossed the dishes in to soak, not in a mood to clean them. After plugging the sink and letting the water rise, Sanji leaned back, relaxed and feeling that satisfaction he felt after feeding people.

Usopp was watching him with that eager mad-genius look he favored when he had a terrible idea. 

“What?” asked Sanji, raising one curly brow at the teenager, who gave a nervous little grin.

“Can I er- put in the soap?” asked Usopp, and Sanji had a sense of foreboding as he stared at Usopp. A strong sense of foreboding.

“Why?” asked Sanji, keeping his steady gaze fixed on the dark-haired teenager, standing with his curly hair pulled back by a pony-tail, and his dark face looking falsely innocent. It was an added benefit that he wasn't taller than Sanji yet, and that Sanji felt confident staring at the skinny teen in his dark jeans and black-tank top that he could take Usopp without even lifting a finger.

“Well- er, y'know,” said Usopp with a mumble, “I want to er-

“Is this some weird experiment? Are you goin'to blow shit up?!” demanded Sanji, suddenly horrified and resisting the urge to flatten himself over the dishes like a mother bear would her young.

“Of course no- Well- Maybe,” said the kid, earnest and eager, “But only to clean the dishes fast! It's this compound that I've been working on made from common household stuff- so you don't have to go out and buy detergent!”

He pulled out a small tablet, that was misshapen, so it may have been a circle, but the protruding bumps and lines sticking out ruined the shape and made it look like a star-shape that had it's points cut off. The tablet was orange in colour, and Usopp looked earnest as he watched Sanji.

“Is it dangerous?” asked Sanji, already moving the more delicate dishes out of the sink.

“Absolutely not! I tested it at home with Carrot. He'll vouch it,” said Usopp, earnest and hopeful. Well, thought Sanji, if one of Usopp's gang had been present, than the older teen probably made sure it was safe. He'd never endanger those kids, at least, not on purpose.

“Fine,” said Sanji reluctantly, the dishes moved, and Usopp and him hovering over the sink, a little excited for the reaction. Usopp could make pretty interesting stuff once in a while. 

Usopp tossed the tablet in, and to Sanji's surprise, the water turned bright orange, bubbling and swirling, the food stains wiping off the plate. Usopp was beaming as they watched it work, and then it kept bubbling. Sanji gaped at the water, as it started to spurt and spit, hissing at the two of the teenagers. The water splashed across their chests, stinging the two.

“What the fuck?!” yowled Sanji, as Usopp tackled him.

Ten minutes later, the water was bursting, splattering across the walls and taking the food with it. Usopp and he gaped as orange slush fell onto their shirts, and Sanji nearly screamed as some of the water splashed into his hair. It was sloppy and wet, slightly thicker than water should be, and it felt warm to the touch, nearly burning as it scalded his scalp. 

“What the fuck?!” he demanded again, as Usopp scrambled off.

The two were now staring at the mess the teenager had made, looking aghast.

“That wasn't supposed to happen!” said Usopp mournfully, as orange gunk dripped off his impossibly long nose. 

The kitchen was eerily silent, as Nami, Zoro and Luffy entered. The three gaped at the sink area, looking like it had been attacked. Then Luffy burst into laughter, and Nami and Zoro followed suit. He could hear a phone clicking pictures, probably Nami-darling documenting Usopp's fatal error that lead to his death. He shall forever be remembered. Usopp himself was cautiously eyeing Sanji, who was turning redder and redder as he got up and used the kitchen towel to wipe up the orange slush over his body, sticking to his shirt and jeans, and growled. At least it wasn't the black ones he liked. Usopp scrambled up, not even bothering to dry himself at Sanji's furious expression.

“Get. Out,” growled Sanji, glaring furiously at the orange muck in the room, and Usopp scurried without reply.

“Aw- he didn't mean it!” said Luffy eagerly, “And it's funny.”

Sanji shot him a murderous glare as he began to mop up the new liquid shit and muttered expletives about experiments in the kitchen. He was an idiot to have let Usopp try that shit here.

“Do you need any help Sanji? For a cost,” asked Nami, darling, sweet Nami who beamed at him behind a strand of perfect red hair.

“I'm fine Nami angel,” said Sanji earnestly, throwing her a wonderful smile, “It's only a bit of a mess. Let me handle it. I can clean it up better without anyone getting in my way.”

“Alright,” said Nami with an understanding nod, “C'mon you two, let's give Sanji some space to sort things out here.”

And just like that she was tugging on Zoro's shirt and Luffy's gangly arm, pulling the green-haired teen and straw-hat boy away from Sanji's world. True to his words, he had the majority of the orangey gunk sopped up in under ten minutes, but the sink was another matter. The metal of the sink was hot to the touch, nearly burning the skin. Using an oven mitt, Sanji unplugged the sink, and drained it dry. A few minutes later, cold water was filling the sink up, and the dishes were going back in.

Relieved that that trauma was dealt with, though Sanji still had a few choice words for Usopp, he left the dishes to soak in proper soap, and turned around. To Sanji's surprise, Zoro- the mosshead that he was- was standing there, holding out a pair of jeans and a shirt.

“For me?” asked Sanji with a raised eyebrow.

“For the sink,” came the sarcastic reply, as Zoro rolled his eyes “It'll probably be a bit big since you're a skinny shit.”

Sanji scowled and grabbed the clothes, tossing back, “I'm not a skinny shit. You're a fat-ass.”

“Fat-ass?!” howled Zoro, but Sanji had already flounced away, grinning at the victory as he ducked into the bathroom to change.

* * *

By the time Sanji emerged, Usopp had thoroughly barricaded himself behind Zoro's couch, his sling-shot in the teen's trembling hand as he muttered prayers. Luffy was beside him, not out of fear, but out of some misplaced idea of adventure and fun. Nami, true to her nature, was going through the sake, wine and beer bottles, organizing them for the drinking contest. Zoro was highly amused, despite the stoic expression on his face.

He hadn't had friends over since he was a kid, and Luffy and Ace and Sabo used to tear through his house like the fat-asses they were, eating all the food in the fridge and making a general mess of themselves. Those were the days. After her death though, he'd just stopped having people over. It was sort of amazing how loud people could be when they entered his house.

“We're really drinking?” asked the blonde, mesmerized at the carefully lined up arrangement Nami had created. The redhead beamed back at Sanji, and Zoro turned to stare at the blonde.

The blonde was in a pair of track-pants of Zoro's, one's he'd outgrown a year or so ago, and a large, ratty-ass gym-shirt from school. It had holes in it, was way too large on the cook's skinny frame. It fit almost right on the shoulders, though it slipped a bit, revealing more neck and shoulder than it would on Zoro, and waist down. It was probably looser and baggier than anything Sanji owned. Rattier too. 

“You look like I did when I wore Ace's clothes!” said Luffy, bursting into his delighted  _“shishishi”_  laughter.

And Zoro suddenly saw it. The somewhat decent image of the cook transformed into Luffy, eleven years old, and trying to act cool by pulling on Ace's shorts and tying it with jump-rope. Zoro snorted as the image morphed into a blonde, skinny kid from the picture running around in Zoro's baggy shirt. It was a match.

A pillow slammed into his head, and Luffy was smarting one on his face too. Sanji's leg came down from having kicked the pillow at the group, and he raised his nose like a pompous little shit and headed beside Nami, who was finally done her bottle sorting.

“Alright! Time to drink!” said Nami proudly.

“What's the order?” asked Zoro, staring at the random alignment of bottles.

“Hard liquor first,” said Nami, laying out the mugs, and Zoro caught Sanji wincing as he always did at the lack of proper glasses, “We'll down the sake first, since it has the highest alcohol content. The three of us will split the first two bottles. If there's no conclusion by the end of the sake, we'll switch to the beer and it'll go by bottles.”

“This has an alcohol content of twenty-three percent!” said the cook, gaping as he lifted the bottle, “Are we trying to drink ourselves  _blind_?”

“Dropping out?” came the eager replies from Zoro and Nami, and the cook gaped, before hardening and slamming the dark black bottle, with the white label and cork back onto the table. His arms were crossed and steely.

“Fine,” said Nami, looking disappointed as she sat down on the arm-chair, crossing her legs and letting her skirt ride up her thighs slightly, and the cook was back to panting over her, already popping the bottle open and pouring her drink first while nattering on about Nami-darling's concerns. Zoro had mastered the art of tuning him out already as he grabbing Sanji's wrist.

“Wait,” said Zoro crossly, “We have to check that the cups are even. And you're a participant. You can't pour.”

Sanji glowered at him, and placed the bottle down as he slid down on the couch, and rolled his eyes as he said, “Fine, Usopp. Pour. Don't blow shit up.”

“Why can't I pour?” asked Luffy with a whine, as Usopp, still trembling, took the bottle and poured a broken stream of the sake into each mug, going back and forth between the three to ensure that they were even at the half-way mark and that Sanji wouldn't murder him. 

“Because you're an idiot,” said Sanji with ease, throwing his feet up and forcing Zoro to sit on the ground. He glowered at the blonde, and elbowed him roughly as Sanji giggled at his annoyance, before turning eagerly to the alcohol. Drunk was a good place to be tonight.

“Here you go,” said Usopp eagerly, hand shaking as he offered the glass to Sanji first, and the cook lazily accepted, before rolling his eyes at Usopp and relaxing his posture. He was obviously not mad anymore, but he was still pretending to be annoyed to get revenge.

Petty. But funny.

“Zoro,” said Usopp, handing him the mug, which had a cheesy flower on it. Zoro frowned, wondering when the hell he'd gotten this mug. Probably some nanny had left it behind when he'd been a kid.

“Nami,” said Usopp, handing her a mug, and the three waited, staring at Usopp, who kept looking nervously to Sanji, but still somewhat excited, and Luffy, who was grinning like a child and beaming at the three of them.

“Oh for the love of- Someone say go!” said Nami, glaring at the two.

“GO!” shouted Luffy, and that was it.

Zoro tossed the mug back, as the familiar burn of the sake poured down his throat, being guzzled quickly. He smacked his lips, as the bitter taste lingered in his mouth. It was a rough brand, hardly high-class or anything fancy, but the dry taste, similar to the white wine that Sanji had brought once, was quality right there. As the alcohol hit, he immediately felt his senses dull, and he cracked his neck, enjoying the warmth lingering in his body, despite the coolness of the sake itself. It ran smooth as he guzzled the second gulp, like water, and he was grinning like a fool as he drank.

“Not bad,” murmured Nami, looking pink, but mostly upright as she set her mug down, “Not bad at all. Did you get this from Johnny's dad's place?”

“Yeah,” said Zoro with a nod, raising an eyebrow.

“Genzo goes there a lot,” agreed Nami, as though it had some meaning to the group. Luffy giggled about something in that reference as he mentioned the “funny hat” and Usopp made a terrified face at some memory. Nothing that gave Zoro a strong impression of this 'Genzo'.

“Is strong,” muttered the cook, and Zoro twisted his neck to see the cook, cheeks flushed a deeper pink than Nami's, resembling one of Rika's sweaters, and glaring at the mug. Pft. He was probably a light-to-medium weight. But his cup was empty already. He'd have to see. 

“Next cup,” said Zoro, looking forward to the contest.

* * *

The contest ended when Zoro called it quits after the first bottle and a quarter of the second were gone. He gladly paid Nami up, but the red-head was swaying on her feet. He wasn't steady himself, but he knew that if he and Nami kept going, Sanji would end up with alcohol poisoning. The idiot had been trying to keep up with the two, and fallen behind two mugs of sake ago. He wasn't making any sense anymore, his words garbled and slurred, and he took a few minutes to think before speaking. Plus, he'd professed his dying love for Nami at least three times. And his face was redder than cherries.

“You're drunk,” said Zoro flatly, as he lifted Sanji up.

Luffy had passed out a while back, falling asleep behind the couch with his straw-hat over his head. Usopp, after Sanji in a drunken haze had forgiven him and the two had ran around dancing, had collapsed on the couch Sanji had been sleeping on and was passed out. That was the last time Zoro let the two boys have some sake in his home. He was lucky nothing was broken. Nami had kicked Sanji and Zoro out after she grabbed a blanket and curled up in the armchair. Zoro was still unsure when he'd agreed to let all of the teens sleepover.

Sanji was stumbling along beside Zoro as he led the blonde upstairs. He'd come back and carry Luffy and Usopp to the master bedroom, after depositing Sanji in his room. The blonde was groaning, barely awake.

“You're so drunk,” repeated Zoro, for no true purpose other than to get his point across.

“I'm shrunk,” agreed Sanji, looking pleased with himself for getting that sentence out, “But I shin't pash out!”

“You're liver is crying. I can hear it crying,” muttered Zoro, as Sanji frowned, and started poking at his stomach, near his belly button.

“I cansh't hear it,” said the curly-brow, looking upset. If he burst into tears, Zoro was never going to let him drink again.

“Because you're drunk,” pointed out Zoro again, affirming the point.

“Yesh I am!” cheered Sanji, as they reached the stairs. The blonde stared at the oak wood, leading up imposingly to a dark hallway, and frowned, before saying, “I donsh't think I ca'sh walk that.”

“You can,” said Zoro, though he doubted it himself, as he lifted Sanji slightly and began treading up the stairs. True to Sanji's prediction, the cook was failing with his depth perception, and either lifted his leg too high and then stumbled, nearly dragging Zoro with him, or guessed too low and cursed up a storm when his leg hit the step in front of him.

Zoro's chest hurt from laughing by the time they reached the top, and he felt a bit more sober after having to catch Sanji twice when he nearly fell backwards.

“Are we goinsh down?” asked Sanji, staring back downstairs with interest.

“You're going to sleep idiot,” said Zoro fondly, leading him towards his room.

“Shleep! That sounds good- Waisht! I can'sht die! Can't I? 'Caush I'm drunk? Shtupid Shwordshman,” said Sanji, as the two trudged in the dark hall to the last door.

“You'll be fine,” said Zoro with a shake of his head, kicking the door to his room open.

His room was minimalist in fashion. The bed was a hammock, after he'd broken the last bed frame while swinging his sword around during training. There was no desk, just a rack of weights. That was it. The floors were bare oak, with a gym-mat thrown lazily in the centre. The blanket was a soft, plush blue, that had faded over the years and looked a bit like worn out jeans. The two windows overlooked the street, to Rika's house. Zoro lifted Sanji into the hammock, and the blonde was already passed out.

“Die my ass,” said Zoro with an eye-roll, as he left the room, chuckling to himself.

* * *

After dropping Luffy and Usopp into the equally impersonal master bedroom with brown sheets. He wasn't too worried about them sharing a bed. He was more worried that Nami was going to tax him in the morning when she realized he'd left her on the couch. At least he'd dropped a thicker red blanket over the girl, and made sure her legs were covered and she looked straightened out. By the time he had sorted them all out, he abandoned the booze and dishes, resolving to clean it up at a later date. He grabbed a bottle of sake and headed upstairs.

Then he headed back upstairs and to the side room by the stairs. It was an empty room, slightly dusty with a small bed with linen sheets and a musty, green blanket, similar to his hair. He headed over to the bed, and wrapped himself up into it, staring at the ghosts in this room, feeling the hairs on his arm prickle up at the invisible forces.

Well, he thought as he opened his sake, at least in the next hour he'd be too oblivious to remember.  

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been a while. School just wrapped up, so now I have more free-time, and we're back to five day updates. I've had a crazy sort of week, two tests, two essays and a chemistry lab. It's been weird and wild and I honestly don't know how I got to the end of this week. 
> 
> I also edited my first three chapters for this story, and re-posted them to be a bit more coherent. I'm really disappointed by the lack of proper editing, and a huge reason I didn't post was because I didn't have time to edit the chapters. If anyone knows a good beta for this story, or is willing to beta, drop me a message or contact me on tumblr. I'd really like a beta who'd be willing to comb over my story for me a little! 
> 
> Also, new chapter. This one hints at Zoro's backstory :) I have backstories! I know. It amazes me too. 
> 
> Tumblr: sunny-donna.tumblr.com


	7. Hangovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recap: Sanji, Nami and Zoro go through with their drinking bet. Everyone is drunk and Zoro puts everyone to bed before retiring in the guest room.

Waking up in the guest room was disorienting the next day. For a few minutes, Zoro wondered if he was dreaming. He hadn't slept in this room in a long time. In a very long time. Part of Zoro wanted to flee and never return. The other part wanted to bury itself in the quilts and never get out.

Somewhere downstairs, Zoro could hear movement. Sanji was already awake, and judging from the lack of swearing, probably talking to Nami. He couldn't picture either Usopp or Luffy as early risers, and Zoro had a feeling both Nami and Sanji were nursing hangovers from last night.

He'd have to thank Johnny later on for that.

Zoro stared at the room, with it's hollow echoes ringing around him. Closing his eyes, he pictured his childhood for a moment. The endless nannies. The emptiness. The lack of colours and movements and just the boredom of living.

And then she came.

The world became bright and beautiful. She gave him a sword. A real live sword, and told him to swing it. And the world spun round and round, as she laughed, correcting his hold. Telling him to swing higher or lower, adjusting his stance.

And then she was gone.

Zoro stood up, feeling a little lost and shaky at the end of that dizzying moment. He shouldn't be thinking like that, not after having such a good night with... these people. What did he call them? Friends? That seemed to shallow. Friends were backstabbers and liars and it was a paltry word to attach to paltry relationships. Friends changed colour as quickly as the sky did at dusk.

Best friends?

Zoro cringed at the title. Best friends implicated a confessions and secrets and mutual understanding fostered by similar interests. Zoro had nothing in common with these people. He disliked Nami and Sanji on most days, and adored them on others, but he'd be the last person to suggest that he had anything in common with either of them. He liked Usopp and Luffy, but never enough to talk about his problems with either of them.

And he didn't really believe those two had secrets or shit that they'd come to him with. Luffy was just too loud to be secretive. He was the type to lay his soul bare and not be judged for it. Usopp was similar. His secrets were written in his lies. Conversely, Nami and Sanji kept secrets. Zoro recognized that. And he didn't want to know their secrets. There was something gross about trying to know everything about those two. But that didn't mean he didn't like them.

Whatever.

It was too early in the morning to be introspective.

Zoro climbed out of the bed, and with a last glance to the room, exited to his bathroom. A quick brush of his teeth that had been impeded by his slight sensitivity to light. Normally, Zoro would train off the hangover, but he had guests now.

Fuck he hated having friends.

With a grimace, Zoro lumbered downstairs towards the kitchen.

As predicted, Sanji looked dead on his feet. The cook was a pasty white colour, and there was an air about him that suggested vomit. Also, Zoro had just cleaned up a missed spot of puke on the toilet rim. Sanji was wrapped up in Zoro's duvet, looking like the sick kid he'd been the other day as his hand moved very slowly to slice the tomatoes. Judging from the egg batter, he was probably making breakfast.

In contrast, Nami was looking mostly better for the wear. She had sunglasses on, probably for the light sensitivity, and her hair was an absolute mess. Unlike Sanji's blond fluffy mop of bed-hair, Nami's bob stuck out in odd places, but the red-head wasn't too bothered. It probably helped that she was nursing a mug of coffee.

"Hungover?" asked Zoro to both of them.

"Speak quietly or get out," groused Sanji in a mere whisper, pulling the duvet closer around him. The stove-top coffee finished, and Sanji plodded over slowly, all the while muttering profanities to Zoro's liver, and then there was a cup of coffee thrust into his hands, while Sanji refilled his own cup.

"Need any help?" offered Zoro, gesturing to the vegetables.

"Fuck your liver. I hope you die from alcohol poisoning and your liver shrivels up into a tiny speck of dust before exploding, shitty moss-headed spongy-liver asshole," snapped Sanji, returning to the extremely slow pace of chopping the tomato.

Zoro knew when to back down from a fight. Instead, he turned to Nami and raised an eyebrow. Why wasn't the woman helping? Did she plan on staying for dinner?

"He won't let me help," replied Nami wryly, "I'm really not that much of a bitch, y'know."

"Quiet voices please, Nami dear," groaned Sanji, "I think I'm going to be sick."

And then with a speed that Zoro hadn't predicted he could move at, Sanji was barrelling to the bathroom. Zoro watched him go, trying and failing to create a proper reply to this display. It wasn't funny. It was so not funny.

His lip twitched.

"Get it out," said Nami suddenly, "Laugh it up and then go hold his hair while he pukes like a good little  _friend_."

Zoro's laughter died as he stared at Nami's sparkly brown eyes, beaming at him as though she knew just what she was implying. Zoro glared at her hotly, trying and failing to create an appropriate response to how much he despised her.

"You'd charge me for laughing," replied Zoro tersely.

"A mere 5 beri per second," chirped Nami honestly, "And if you ever want to get anywhere Mr. Demon of the East Blue, I'd go get a move on. And just because you placed a blanket over me last night, I won't even charge you for the advice. Consider us even."

It was dirty, underhanded and all about making sure that Zoro realized Nami owed him nothing if he took that advice. Damn it. Now he respected her for it.

"Chop the fucking vegetables," replied Zoro as he grumpily moved to make sure Sanji was keeping his stomach inside his body.

"It'll cost ya," sang Nami, though she was already moving the tomatoes in front of her.

Damned woman.

* * *

Sanji was not prone to over-exaggerations. He always stated exactly what he felt. And that was why he was glaring furiously into the toilet, now drenched in vomit, as he wiped his mouth with a towel. Standing up, he turned to see Zoro in the doorway, standing in a black-wife beater and grey fleece track-pants, looking like a big tough green-haired punk that wanted to be smashing something instead of showing concern.

"M'fine," replied Sanji easily, glowering back at the green, sloppy chunks of puke, "My stomach's done revolting."

"Did you throw up everything you ate yesterday?" blurted out Zoro, staring at the toilet and then Sanji, as though trying to figure out the logistics of where the food came from.

"Seriously, I'm fine," groused Sanji, "This isn't even a big deal, lemme clean up and then I'll finish breakfast. You didn't leave Nami-swan alone, did you?"

Zoro didn't even comment on the nickname. There was no teasing, as he eyed Sanji, worry echoing in the lines of his dark face, eyes narrowed in a glare that seemed to be specifically for situations that caused him concern.

Sanji shifted on the balls of his feet, unsure why that stare was so unsettling.

"Get out," said Zoro finally, "I'll clean this shit up. Go cook something idiot."

Even the insult was half-hearted. Sanji gaped at Zoro's open concern for him.  _Why that fucker!_ He wasn't even dying. This was seriously not the worst thing that could happen. Sure it was waste to throw up a good meal, but he wasn't some pansy-ass that needed to be babied.

Zoro was stepping into the bathroom, and Sanji's anger and embarrassment at Zoro displaying open concern caused his body to move before Sanji could stop it. His leg struck out, banging Zoro in the chest with a straight forward frontal kick, using his heel to deliver the majority of the force. Zoro was completely unprepared for the attack, and ended up stumbling backwards, straight out of the bathroom door.

He was gaping at Sanji, clutching his chest almost absently, as though the pain was an afterthought to the realization that Sanji had just  _kicked_  him. And _kicked_ him well.

"What the fuck was _that_ shit-cook?" asked Zoro, gawping like a moron.

Sanji felt somewhat smug, realizing that Zoro had completely underestimated the strength Sanji's legs carried. He was Zeff's kid, and Sanji wasn't just anyone after all. From his pocket, Sanji pulled out his cigarettes and lighter, grinning as he cupped the flame to the white stick already prepped between his lips.

"I can take care of myself asshole," replied a smug Sanji, blowing out a plume of smoke from his grinning lips, "Now get out."

"Show me how to do that!" demanded Zoro, staring now at Sanji's legs as though they had suddenly turned into diamonds, "Fuck- Was that the strongest you can kick or can you do it stronger? Can you do it faster? What technique was that? What happens if you used your toes- What if you wore shoes and did that?!"

Sanji stopped smirking.

Zoro had a gleam in his eye, a dangerous look he got only when Cabaji came up with a new technique that was both underhanded and seemed more suited to a circus. It was Zoro's 'I-have-a-new-challenge' face. Usually, that look meant Cabaji was going to get his ass handed to him by Zoro. Sanji liked his ass where it was, thank you very much.

"Can you kick higher?" murmured Zoro, lost in a world where Sanji got the shit whacked out of him because Zoro wanted a fucking challenge. Yeah fucking right. If Zoro even took another step, Sanji was going to shove his foot up Zoro's ass so far that the green-haired bastard would puke up his own guts.

"I hate you," announced Sanji, before slamming the door shut in Zoro's face.

Well. That went well.

* * *

Zoro was grinning like an idiot as he returned to the kitchen. Who knew the cook could kick like that?! Oh he had to get the cook to try that against him. Maybe he could use his swords- but could the cook block that? Obviously Sanji had good aim. He'd thrown plenty of things before at Zoro. Could those chicken arms have a hidden strength? Could he get Sanji to arm wrestle-

"Did you end up making out? Please tell me that he at least brushed his teeth and it wasn't the taste of vomit that has you so turned on," interrupted Nami, her smirk planted wide on her face.

"He kicked me," announced Zoro, still too excited to let Nami ruin his mood, "And it hurt! He kicks really fucking hard!"

Nami blinked at Zoro. Then, deciding it wasn't worth her time, she returned to chopping the tomatoes.

When Sanji returned to the kitchen, he automatically took over the chopping, scolding Zoro for making Nami do any of the work. Zoro was still too elated to let Sanji's fawning get to him. Sanji had a kick stronger than Cabaji! Who knew that the challenge he needed was standing right there all along? And Sanji didn't hold back or get distracted like Luffy did if Zoro asked him to train. Sanji would whoop his ass.

He had to get Sanji to train with him.

Unfortunately, the smell of bacon caused Luffy to come charging downstairs, followed by a disgruntled Usopp and then eggs were served and breakfast was on. It was strange how easily everyone settled into their roles. Nami had a fruit smoothie, made with tangerines specifically suited to her taste, and Luffy had a mountain of bacon and sausage, while Usopp had a mushroom-free omelet. Zoro himself was served omurice. When had the cook figured out their tastes?

As Zoro watched Sanji flounce around the kitchen, while Luffy tried to steal the ham Sanji was cooking into an omelet for Usopp, Zoro couldn't help but feel a strange sense of contentment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me here
> 
> [sunny-donna.tumblr.com](sunny-donna.tumblr.com)
> 
> for more fics and updates of my stuff. Thank you so much!


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